Quotes from Terry Pratchett

Particles of raw inspiration sleet through the universe all the time. Every once in a while one of them hits a receptive mind, which then invents DNA or the flute sonata form or a way of making light bulbs wear out in half the time. But most of them miss. Most people go through their lives without being hit by even one.

He stared at his feet. "I'm still very ignorant," he said, "but at least I'm ignorant about really important things.

a man needs no camel to ride to hell, yea, nor horse, nor mule; a man may ride into hell on his tongue...

Science is not about building a body of known 'facts'. It is a method for asking awkward questions and subjecting them to a reality-check, thus avoiding the human tendency to believe whatever makes us feel good.

What's magic, eh? Just wavin' a stick an' sayin' a few wee magical words. An' what's so clever aboot that, eh? But lookin' at things, really lookin' at 'em, and then workin' 'em oout, now, that's a real skill.

The only way to get something to turn up when you need it is to need it to turn up.

no one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away—until the clock he wound up winds down, until the wine she made has finished its ferment, until the crop they planted is harvested. The span of someone's life, they say, is only the core of their actual existence.

I certainly don't sit down and plan a book out before I write it. There's a phrase I use called The Valley Full of Clouds. Writing a novel is as if you are going off on a journey across a valley. The valley is full of mist, but you can see the top of a tree here and the top of another tree over there. And with any luck you can see the other side of the valley. But you cannot see down into the mist. Nevertheless, you head for the first tree.

On a million hillsides the girl ran, on a million bridges the girl chose, on a million paths the woman stood... All different, all one. All she could do for all of them was be herself, here and now, as hard as she could.

Somewhere deep inside his mind, somewhere beyond the event horizon of rationality, the sheer pressure of insanity had hammered his madness into something harder than diamond.

They'd come here to spoon and, on one memorable occasion, fork.

What is normal? Normal is yesterday and last week and last month taken together

Rain don't fall on a witch if she doesn't want it to, although personally I prefer to get wet and be thankful." "Thankful for what?" said Tiffany. "That I'll get dry later.

the whole point of the wish business was to see to it that what the client got was exactly what he asked for and exactly what he didn't really want.

Mistress Weatherwax, you are a natural disputant." "No I ain't!

Only Ron's dog was watching William. He considered that it had, for a dog, a very offensive and knowing look. A couple of months ago someaone had tried to hand William the old story about there being a dog in the city that could talk. (...) The dog in front of William didn't look as if it could talk, but it DID look as if it would swear.

He knew from experience that true and obvious ideas, such as the ineffable wisdom and judgment of the Great God Om, seemed so obscure to many people that you actually had to kill them before they saw the error of their ways...

Child. That was a terrible thing to say to anyone who was almost thirteen.

It will certainly show what our ancestors would be thinking if they were alive today. People have often speculated about this. Would they approve of modern society, they ask, would they marvel at present-day achievements? And of course this misses a fundamental point. What our ancestors would really be thinking, if they were alive today, is: Why is it so dark in here?

My name is unpronounceable in your tongue, woman," it said. "I'll be the judge of that," warned Granny, and added, "Don't call me woman." "Very well. My name is WxrtHltl-jwlpklz," said the demon smugly.

I THINK... I THINK I COULD BE FRIENDS WITH THE GREEN BOTTLE.

A city like Ankh-Morpork was only two meals away from chaos at the best of times.

History has to be observed. Otherwise it's not history. It's just … well, things happening one after another.

Although she was aware that somewhere under her complicated strata of vests and petticoats there was some skin, that didn't mean to say she approved of it.