Quotes About Terry

Crowley (An Angel who did not so much Fall as Saunter Vaguely Downwards)

Do you know how wizards like to be buried? Yes! Well, how? Granny Weatherwax paused at the bottom of the stairs. Reluctantly.

The thief, as will become apparent, was a special type of thief. This thief was an artist of theft. Other thieves merely stole everything that was not nailed down, but this thief stole the nails as well.

Let's just say that if complete and utter chaos were lightning, then he'd be the sort to stand on a hilltop in a thunderstorm wearing wet copper armor and shouting 'All Gods are bastards.

And all the stories had, somewhere, the witch. The wicked old witch. And Tiffany had thought: Where's the evidence?

There were no public health laws in Ankh-Morpork. It would be like installing smoke detectors in Hell.

In defiance of Miss Maccalariat I'd like to commit hanky-panky with you, Miss Adora Belle Dearheart... well, certainly hanky, and possibly panky when we get to know one another better.

The thing about words is that meanings can twist just like a snake, and if you want to find snakes look for them behind words that have changed their meaning.

His sister had been sent down to the village to ask Mistress Garlick the witch how you stopped spelling recommendation.

They shed a rather unpleasant glow that didn't so much illuminate, as outline the darkness.

And then there was the headless horseman! said Tiffany. He had no head! Well, that is the major job qualification, said the toad.

He was currently wondering vaguely who Moey and Chandon were.

But too much reading had taken its toll. William found that he now thought of prayer as a sophisticated way of pleading with thunderstorms.

Well, I'm sorry to have to tell you, sir, that your polar ice caps are below regulation size for a planet of this category, sir.

Here's what I suggest, he said. You pretend that rats can think, and I'll promise to pretend that humans can think, too.

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

Bee there Orr Bee A Rectangular Thyng

Ankh-Morpork is a godless city--' 'I thought it had more than three hundred places of worship?' said Maladict. Strappi stared at him in rage that was incoherent until he managed to touch bottom again. 'Ankh-Morpork is a godawful city', he recovered.

with the grin of one who mistakenly thinks he's a wit when he's only half a one.

Rincewind had been generally reckoned by his tutors to be a natural wizard in the same way that fish are natural mountaineers.

IT WON'T HURT, said Death. If words had weight, a single sentence from Death would have anchored a ship.

The little dragon turned on Vimes a gaze that would be guaranteed to win it the award for Dragon the Judges would Most Like to Take Home and Use as a Portable Gas Lighter.

Vimes' glare ran from face to face, causing most of the squad to do an immediate impression of the Floorboard and Ceiling Inspectors Synchronised Observation Team.

She turned. A young man of godlike proportions* was standing in the doorway. *The better class of gods, anyway. Not the ones with the tentacles, obviously.