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&nbsp;# NetHack 3.6  tribute       $NHDT-Date: 1524689580 2018/04/25 20:53:00 $  $NHDT-Branch: NetHack-3.6.0 $:$NHDT-Revision: 1.82 $
&nbsp;# Copyright (c) 2017 by Robert Patrick Rankin
&nbsp;# NetHack may be freely redistributed.  See license for details.
&nbsp;# A tribute introduced in NetHack 3.6.0 to:
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#         Sir Terence David John "Terry" Pratchett
&nbsp;#              April 28, 1948 - March 12, 2015
&nbsp;# ("or until the ripples he caused in the world die away...")
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%section books
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title The Colour of Magic  (14)
&nbsp;# p. 67 (Signet edition; 'Morpork':  initially Ankh and Morpork were twin
&nbsp;#        cities with distinct characteristics on opposite sides of the Ankh
&nbsp;#        river--they were eventually consolidated into Ankh-Morpork without
&nbsp;#        regard to which area was where)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;It has been remarked before that those who are sensitive to radiations in
&nbsp;the far octarine--the eighth colour, the pigment of the Imagination--can
&nbsp;see things that others cannot.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Thus it was that Rincewind, hurrying through the crowded, flare-lit,
&nbsp;evening bazaars of Morpork with the Luggage trundling behind him, jostled
&nbsp;a tall dark figure, turned to deliver a few suitable curses, and beheld
&nbsp;Death.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It had to be Death.  No-one else went around with empty eye sockets and,
&nbsp;of course, the scythe over one shoulder was another clue.  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage 1
&nbsp;# p. 116
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;As he was drawn towards the Eye the terror-struck Rincewind raised the box
&nbsp;protectively, and at the same time heard the picture imp say, "They're
&nbsp;about ripe now, can't hold them any longer.  Everyone smile, please."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There was a--
&nbsp;--flash of light so white and so bright--
&nbsp;--it didn't seem like light at all.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Bel-Shamharoth screamed, a sound that started in the far ultrasonic and
&nbsp;finished somewhere in Rincewind's bowels.  The tentacles went momentarily
&nbsp;as stiff as rods, hurling their various cargoes around the room, before
&nbsp;bunching up protectively in front of the abused Eye.  The whole mass
&nbsp;dropped into the pit and a moment later the big slab was snatched up by
&nbsp;several dozen tentacles and slammed into place, leaving a number of
&nbsp;thrashing limbs trapped around the edge.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage 2
&nbsp;# p. 8 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;[...]  In the meantime, they could only speculate about the revealed
&nbsp;cosmos.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There was, for example, the theory that A'Tuin had come from nowhere and
&nbsp;would continue at a uniform crawl, or steady gait, into nowhere, for all
&nbsp;time.  This theory was popular among academics.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;An alternative, favoured by those of a religious persuasion, was that
&nbsp;A'Tuin was crawling from the Birthplace to the Time of Mating, as were
&nbsp;all the stars in the sky which were, obviously, also carried by giant
&nbsp;turtles.  When they arrived they would briefly and passionately mate, for
&nbsp;the first and only time, and from that fiery union new turtles would be
&nbsp;born to carry a new pattern of worlds.  This was known as the Big Bang
&nbsp;hypothesis.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 13 (end of a long footnote; the initial obsession with 'eight' ended
&nbsp;#        fairly quickly within the Discworld series)
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;[...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There are, of course, eight days in a disc week and eight colours in its
&nbsp;light spectrum.  Eight is a number of some considerable occult
&nbsp;significance on the disc and must never, ever, be spoken by a wizard.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Precisely why all the above should be so is not clear, but goes some way
&nbsp;to explain why, on the disc, the Gods are not so much worshipped as blamed.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 38 (first speaker is Rincewind, second is a pre-Vetinari Patrician)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"I assure you the thought never even crossed my mind, lord."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Indeed?  Then if I were you I'd sue my face for slander."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 41 (title of 5th book is "Sourcery" but it's spelled "sorcery" here;
&nbsp;#        'organising': British spelling)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;All the heroes of the Circle Sea passed through the gates of Ankh-Morpork
&nbsp;sooner or later.  Most of them were from the barbaric tribes nearer the
&nbsp;frozen Hub, which had a sort of export trade in heroes.  Almost all of
&nbsp;them had crude magic swords, whose unsuppressed harmonics on the astral
&nbsp;plane played hell with any delicate experiments in applied sorcery for
&nbsp;miles around, but Rincewind didn't object to them on that score.  He knew
&nbsp;himself to be a magical dropout, so it didn't bother him that the mere
&nbsp;appearance of a hero at the city gates was enough to cause retorts to
&nbsp;explode and demons to materialize all through the Magical Quarter.  No,
&nbsp;what he didn't like about heroes was that they were usually suicidally
&nbsp;gloomy when sober and homicidally insane when drunk.  There were too many
&nbsp;of them, too.  Some of the most notable questing grounds were a veritable
&nbsp;hubbub in the season.  There was talk of organising a rota.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 82-83 (passage starts mid-paragraph;
&nbsp;#            pronouns for deities are not capitalized;
&nbsp;#            Bravd and the Weasel, obviously a parody of Fritz Leiber's
&nbsp;#            Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, appear at the beginning of the 1st
&nbsp;#            of 4 stories and then are left behind, never to be seen again;
&nbsp;#            "wenegrade wiffard" is Rincewind and "fome fort of clerk" is
&nbsp;#            Twoflower the tourist; the seemingly abrupt end of the passage
&nbsp;#            is the end of the 2nd of the 4 stories that make up the book;
&nbsp;#            'centre': British spelling; 'billion': British usage gives it a
&nbsp;#            value of 'million millions', equivalent to American 'trillion';
&nbsp;#            the second paragraph of this passage is the data.base quote
&nbsp;#            for "blind io" and the second half of the passage is the
&nbsp;#            data.base quote for "*lady" and "offler")
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;[...]  The disc gods themselves, despite the splendor of the world below
&nbsp;them, are seldom satisfied.  It is embarrassing to know that one is a god
&nbsp;of a world that only exists because every improbability curve must have
&nbsp;its far end; especially when one can peer into other dimensions at worlds
&nbsp;whose Creators had more mechanical aptitude than imagination.  No wonder,
&nbsp;then, that the disc gods spend more time bickering than in omnicognizance.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;On this particular day Blind Io, by dint of constant vigilance the chief
&nbsp;of the gods, sat with his chin on his hand and looked at the gaming board
&nbsp;on the red marble table in front of him.  Blind Io had got his name
&nbsp;because, where his eye sockets should have been, there were nothing but
&nbsp;two areas of blank skin.  His eyes, of which he had an impressively large
&nbsp;number, led a semi-independent life of their own.  Several were currently
&nbsp;hovering above the table.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The gaming board was a carefully-carved map of the disc world, overprinted
&nbsp;with squares.  A number of beautifully modelled playing pieces were now
&nbsp;occupying some of the squares.  A human onlooker would, for example, have
&nbsp;recognized in two of them the likenesses of Bravd and the Weasel.  Others
&nbsp;represented yet more heroes and champions, of which the disc had a more
&nbsp;than adequate supply.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Still in the game were Io, Offler the Crocodile God, Zephyrus the god of
&nbsp;slight breezes, Fate, and the Lady.  There was an air of concentration
&nbsp;around the board now that the lesser players had been removed from the
&nbsp;Game.  Chance had been an early casualty, running her hero into a full
&nbsp;house of armed gnolls (the result of a lucky throw by Offler) and shortly
&nbsp;afterwards Night had cashed his chips, pleading an appointment with
&nbsp;Destiny.  Several minor deities had drifted up and were kibitzing over
&nbsp;the shoulders of the players.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Side bets were made that the Lady would be the next to leave the board.
&nbsp;Her last champion of any standing was now a pinch of potash in the ruins
&nbsp;of still-smoking Ankh-Morpork, and there were hardly any pieces that she
&nbsp;could promote to first rank.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Blind Io took up the dice-box, which was a skull whose various orifices
&nbsp;had been stoppered with rubies, and with several of his eyes on the Lady
&nbsp;he rolled three fives.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;She smiled.  This was the nature of the Lady's eyes:  they were bright
&nbsp;green, lacking iris or pupil, and they glowed from within.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The room was silent as she scrabbled in her box of pieces and, from the
&nbsp;very bottom, produced a couple that she set down on the board with two
&nbsp;decisive clicks.  The rest of the players, as one God, craned forward to
&nbsp;peer at them.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"A wenegrade wiffard and fome fort of clerk," said Offler the Crocodile
&nbsp;God, hindered as usual by his tusks.  "Well, weally!"  With one claw he
&nbsp;pushed a pile of bone-white tokens into the centre of the table.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The Lady nodded slightly.  She picked up the dice-cup and held it as steady
&nbsp;as a rock, yet all the gods could hear the three cubes rattling about
&nbsp;inside.  And then she sent them bouncing across the table.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;A six.  A three.  A five.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Something was happening to the five, however.  Battered by the chance
&nbsp;collision of several billion molecules, the die flipped onto a point, spun
&nbsp;gently and came down a seven.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Blind Io picked up the cube and counted the sides.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Come /on/," he said wearily.  "Play fair."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 84 (Ankh-Morpork was burned soon after Twoflower introduced the concept
&nbsp;#        of fire insurance; a longer version of this passage is the data.base
&nbsp;#        quote for "tourist")
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;Picturesque.  That was a new word to Rincewind the wizard (B. Mgc.,
&nbsp;Unseen University [failed]).  It was one of a number he had picked up
&nbsp;since leaving the charred ruins of Ankh-Morpork.  Quaint was another one.
&nbsp;Picturesque meant--he decided after careful observation of the scenery
&nbsp;that inspired Twoflower to use the word--that the landscape was horribly
&nbsp;precipitous.  Quaint, when used to describe the occasional village through
&nbsp;which they passed, meant fever-ridden and tumbledown.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Twoflower was a tourist, the first ever seen on the discworld.  Tourist,
&nbsp;Rincewind decided, meant "idiot."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 85 ('memorising': British spelling)
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;Currently Twoflower was showing a great interest in the theory and practice
&nbsp;of magic.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It all seems, well, rather useless to me," he said.  "I always thought
&nbsp;that, you know, a wizard just said the words and that was that.  Not all
&nbsp;this tedious memorising."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Rincewind agreed moodily.  He tried to explain that magic had indeed once
&nbsp;been wild and lawless, but had been tamed back in the mists of time by the
&nbsp;Olden Ones, who had bound it to obey among other things the Law of
&nbsp;Conservation of Reality; this demanded that the effort needed to achieve
&nbsp;a goal should be the same regardless of the means used.  In practical
&nbsp;terms, this meant that, say, creating the illusion of a glass of wine was
&nbsp;relatively easy, since it involved merely the subtle shifting of light
&nbsp;patterns.  On the other hand, lifting a genuine wineglass a few feet in
&nbsp;the air by sheer mental energy required several hours of systematic
&nbsp;preparation if the wizard wished to prevent the simple principle of
&nbsp;leverage flicking his brain out through his ears.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He went on to add that some of the ancient magic could still be found in
&nbsp;its raw state, recognizable--to the initiated--by the eightfold shape it
&nbsp;made in the crystalline structure of space-time.  There was the metal
&nbsp;octiron, for example, and the gas octogen.  Both radiated dangerous
&nbsp;amounts of raw enchantment.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 166 ('Lio!rt' with embedded exclamation point is correct; book's text
&nbsp;#         is missing the opening quote before ["]You arrogant barbarian--")
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;"I challenge you," said Hrun, glaring at the brothers, "both at once."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Lio!rt and Liartes exchanged looks.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You'll fight us both together?" said Liartes, a tall, wiry man with long
&nbsp;black hair.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yah."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That's pretty uneven odds, isn't it?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yah.  I outnumber you one to two."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Lio!rt scowled.  "You arrogant barbarian--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That just about does it!" growled Hrun.  "I'll--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The Loremaster put out a blue-veined hand to restrain him.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It is forbidden to fight on the Killing Ground," he said, and paused
&nbsp;while he considered the sense of this.  "You know what I mean, anyway," he
&nbsp;hazarded, giving up, and added, "As the challenged parties my lords Lio!rt
&nbsp;and Liartes have choice of weapons."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Dragons," they said together.  Liessa snorted.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Dragons can be used offensively, therefore they are weapons," said Lio!rt
&nbsp;firmly.  "If you disagree we can fight over it."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yah," said his brother, nodding at Hrun.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 196
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;Some pirates achieved immortality by great deeds of cruelty or derring-do.
&nbsp;Some achieved immortality by amassing great wealth.  But the captain had
&nbsp;long ago decided that he would, on the whole, prefer to achieve immortality
&nbsp;by not dying.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 201 (entire paragraph is enclosed within parentheses)
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;Plants on the disc, while including the categories known commonly as
&nbsp;/annuals/, which were sown this year to come up later this year,
&nbsp;/biennials/, sown this year to grow next year, and /perennials/, sown this
&nbsp;year to grow until further notice, also included a few rare /re-annuals/
&nbsp;which, because of an unusual four-dimensional twist in their genes, could
&nbsp;be planted this year to come up /last year/.  The /vul/ nut vine was
&nbsp;particularly exceptional in that it could flourish as many as eight years
&nbsp;prior to its seed actually being sown.  /Vul/ nut wine was reputed to give
&nbsp;certain drinkers an insight into the future which was, from the nut's
&nbsp;point of view, the past.  Strange but true.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 217 (Rincewind and Twoflower are slated to become ritual sacrifices)
&nbsp;%passage 13
&nbsp;"I hope you're not proposing to enslave us," said Twoflower.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Marchesa looked genuinely shocked.  "Certainly not!  Whatever could
&nbsp;have given you that idea?  Your lives in Krull will be rich, full and
&nbsp;comfortable--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh, good," said Rincewind.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"--just not very long."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 228-229 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 14
&nbsp;[...]  She was the Goddess Who Must Not Be Named; those who sought her
&nbsp;never found her, yet she was known to come to the aid of those in greatest
&nbsp;need.  And, then again, sometimes she didn't.  She was like that.  She
&nbsp;didn't like the clicking of rosaries, but was attracted to the sound of
&nbsp;dice.  No man knew what She looked like, although there were many times
&nbsp;when a man who was gambling his life on the turn of the cards would pick
&nbsp;up the hand he had been dealt and stare Her full in the face.  Of course,
&nbsp;sometimes he didn't.  Among all the gods she was at one and the same time
&nbsp;the most courted and the most cursed.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title The Light Fantastic (12)
&nbsp;# p. 92 (Signet edition)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;'Cohen ish my name, boy.'  Bethan's hands stopped moving.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Cohen?' she said.  'Cohen the Barbarian?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'The very shame.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Hang on, hang on,' said Rincewind.  'Cohen's a great big chap, neck like a
&nbsp;bull, got chest muscles like a sack of footballs.  I mean, he's the Disc's
&nbsp;greatest warrior, a legend in his own lifetime.  I remember my grandad
&nbsp;telling me he saw him... my grandad telling me he... my grandad...'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He faltered under the gimlet gaze.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Oh,' he said.  'Oh.  Of course.  Sorry.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Yesh,' said Cohen, and sighed.  'That's right boy.  I'm a lifetime in my
&nbsp;own legend.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage 1
&nbsp;# p. 113 (Twoflower is teaching the Riders how to play bridge;
&nbsp;#         in /The Light Fantastic/, Death's dialog uses quotation marks
&nbsp;#         and full uppercase rather than the small capital letters used in
&nbsp;#         the other books)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;Death sat at one side of a black baize table in the centre of the room,
&nbsp;arguing with Famine, War and Pestilence.  Twoflower was the only one to
&nbsp;look up and notice Rincewind.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Hey, how did you get here?' he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Well, some say that the creator took a handful--oh, I see, well, it's
&nbsp;hard to explain but I--'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Have you got the Luggage?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The wooden box pushed past Rincewind and settled down in front of its
&nbsp;owner, who opened its lid and rummaged around inside until he came up with
&nbsp;a small, leatherbound book which he handed to War, who was hammering the
&nbsp;table with a mailed fist.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'It's "Nosehinger on the Laws of Contract",' he said.  'It's quite good,
&nbsp;there's a lot in it about double finessing and how to--'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Death snatched the book with a bony hand and flipped through the pages,
&nbsp;quite oblivious to the presence of the two men.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'RIGHT,' he said, 'PESTILENCE, OPEN ANOTHER PACK OF CARDS.  I'M GOING TO
&nbsp;GET TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS IF IT KILLS ME.  FIGURATIVELY SPEAKING OF COURSE.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage 2
&nbsp;# p. 7 (passage starts mid-sentence; the too-long-to-answer question is
&nbsp;#       "Why have Rincewind and Twoflower fallen off the Disc's rim?",
&nbsp;#       alluding to the conclusion of /The Colour of Magic/;
&nbsp;#       in /Sourcery/ and /Interesting Times/ and probably others, the
&nbsp;#       famous philosopher's name is spelled "Ly Tin Wheedle")
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;[...] such questions take time and could be more trouble than they are
&nbsp;worth.  For example, it is said that someone at a party once asked the
&nbsp;famous philosopher Ly Tin Weedle "Why are you here?" and the reply took
&nbsp;three years.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 8 ('libraries': plural is accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;The only furnishing in the room was a lectern of dark wood, carved into the
&nbsp;shape of a bird--well, to be frank, into the shape of a winged thing it is
&nbsp;probably best not to examine too closely--and on the lectern, fastened to
&nbsp;it by a heavy chain covered in padlocks, was a book.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;A large, but not particularly impressive, book.  Other books in the
&nbsp;University's libraries had covers inlaid with rare jewels and fascinating
&nbsp;wood, or bound with dragon skin.  This one was just a rather tatty leather.
&nbsp;It looked the sort of book described in library catalogues as "slightly
&nbsp;foxed," although it would be more honest to admit that it looked as though
&nbsp;it had been badgered, wolved and possibly beared as well.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 41-42
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;The barbarian chieftain said:  "What then are the greatest things that a
&nbsp;man may find in life?"  This is the sort of thing you're supposed to say to
&nbsp;maintain steppecred in barbarian circles.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The man on his right thoughtfully drank his cocktail of mare's milk and
&nbsp;snowcat blood, and spoke thus:  "The crisp horizon of the steppe, the wind
&nbsp;in your hair, a fresh horse under you."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The man on his left said:  "The cry of the white eagle in the heights, the
&nbsp;fall of snow in the forest, a true arrow in your bow."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The chieftain nodded and said:  "Surely it is the sight of your enemy
&nbsp;slain, the humiliation of his tribe and the lamentation of his women."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There was a general murmur of whiskery approval at this outrageous display.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Then the chieftain turned respectfully to his guest, a small figure
&nbsp;carefully warming his chilblains by the fire, and said:  "But our guest,
&nbsp;whose name is legend, must tell us truly:  what is it that a man may call
&nbsp;the greatest things in life?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The guest paused in the middle of another unsuccessful attempt to light up.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What shay?" he said, toothlessly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I said:  what is it that a man may call the greatest things in life?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The warriors leaned closer.  This should be worth hearing.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The guest thought long and hard and then said, with deliberation:  "Hot
&nbsp;water, good dentishtry and shoft lavatory paper."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 48 (Hanzel and Gretel, obviously...)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;"Have a bit more table," said Rincewind.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"No thanks, I don't like marzipan," said Twoflower.  "Anyway, I'm sure it's
&nbsp;not right to eat other people's furniture."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Don't worry," said Swires.  "The old witch hasn't been seen for years.
&nbsp;They say she was done up good and proper by a couple of young tearaways."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Kids of today," said Rincewind.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I blame the parents," said Twoflower.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 103
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;It is a well known fact that warriors and wizards do not get along, because
&nbsp;one side considers the other side to be a collection of bloodthirsty idiots
&nbsp;who can't walk and think at the same time, while the other side is naturally
&nbsp;suspicious of a body of men who mumble a lot and wear long dresses.  Oh, say
&nbsp;the wizards, if we're going to be like that, then, what about all those
&nbsp;studded collars and oiled muscles down at the Young Men's Pagan Association?
&nbsp;To which the heroes reply, that's a pretty good allegation coming from a
&nbsp;bunch of wimpsoes who won't go near a woman on account, can you believe it,
&nbsp;of their mystical power being sort of drained out.  Right, say the wizards,
&nbsp;that just about does it, you and your leather posing pouches.  Oh yeah, say
&nbsp;the heroes, why don't you...
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And so on.  This sort of thing has been going on for centuries, and caused
&nbsp;a number of major battles which have left large tracts of land uninhabitable
&nbsp;because of magical harmonics.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 128
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;"He'sh mad?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Sort of mad.  But mad with lots of money."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ah, then he can't be mad.  I've been around; if a man hash lotsh of money
&nbsp;he'sh just ecshentric."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 182 (Cohen is now wearing dentures with teeth made from diamonds)
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;Cohen tapped him on the shoulder.  The man looked around irritably.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What do you want, grandad?" he snarled.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Cohen paused until he had the man's full attention, and then he smiled.  It
&nbsp;was a slow, lazy smile, unveiling about 300 carats of mouth jewelry that
&nbsp;seemed to light up the room.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I will count to three," he said, in a friendly tone of voice.  "One, Two."
&nbsp;His bony knee came up in the man's groin with a satisfyingly meaty noise,
&nbsp;and he half-turned to bring the full force of an elbow into the kidneys as
&nbsp;the leader collapsed around his private universe of pain.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Three," to told the ball of agony on the floor.  Cohen had heard of
&nbsp;fighting fair, and had long ago decided he wanted no part of it.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 193-194 (this passage is the data.base quote for shopkeeper)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;There have been three general theories put forward to explain the
&nbsp;phenomenon of the wandering shops, or as they are generically known,
&nbsp;/tabernae vagantes/.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The first postulates that many thousands of years ago there evolved
&nbsp;somewhere in the multiverse a race whose single talent was to buy cheap
&nbsp;and sell dear.  Soon they controlled a vast galactic empire or, as they put
&nbsp;it, Emporium, and the more advanced members of the species found a way to
&nbsp;equip their very shops with unique propulsion units that could break the
&nbsp;dark walls of space itself and open up vast new markets.  And long after
&nbsp;the worlds of the Emporium perished in the heat death of their particular
&nbsp;universe, after one last defiant fire sale, the wandering starshops still
&nbsp;ply their trade, eating their way through the pages of space-time like a
&nbsp;worm through a three-volume novel.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The second is that they are the creation of a sympathetic Fate, charged
&nbsp;with the role of supplying exactly the right thing at the right time.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The third is that they are simply a very clever way of getting around the
&nbsp;various Sunday Closing acts.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;All these theories, diverse as they are, have two things in common.  They
&nbsp;explain the observed facts, and they are completely and utterly wrong.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 205
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;"Where to they all come from?" said Twoflower, as they fled yet another mob.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Inside every sane person there's a madman struggling to get out," said the
&nbsp;shopkeeper,  "That's what I've always thought.  No one goes mad quicker than
&nbsp;a totally sane person."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 229-230 ('grey': British spelling is accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;Trymon was looking at him.  /Something/ was looking at him.  And still the
&nbsp;others hadn't noticed.  Could he even explain it?  Trymon looked the same
&nbsp;as he had always done, except for the eyes, and a slight sheen to his skin.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Rincewind stared, and knew that there were far worse things than Evil.  All
&nbsp;the demons in Hell would torture your very soul, but that was precisely
&nbsp;because they value souls very highly; evil would always try to steal the
&nbsp;universe, but at least it considered the universe worth stealing.  But the
&nbsp;grey world behind those empty eyes would trample and destroy without even
&nbsp;according its victims the dignity of hatred.  It wouldn't even notice them.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Equal Rites (10)
&nbsp;# p. 118 (Signet edition; passage starts mid-sentence and ends mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;[...] it is well known that a vital ingredient of success is not knowing
&nbsp;that what you're attempting can't be done.  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Equal Rites, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 218 (speaker is Granny Weatherwax)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;"Million-to-one chances," she said, "crop up nine times out of ten."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Equal Rites, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 96-97 ('Tannoy': public address speaker)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;Animal minds are simple, and therefore sharp.  Animals never spend time
&nbsp;dividing experience into little bits and speculating about all the bits
&nbsp;they've missed.  The whole panoply of the universe has been neatly
&nbsp;expressed to them as things to (a) mate with, (b) eat, (c) run away from,
&nbsp;and (d) rocks.  This frees the mind from unnecessary thoughts and gives
&nbsp;it a cutting edge where it matters.  Your normal animal, in fact, never
&nbsp;tries to walk and chew gum at the same time.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The average human, on the other hand, thinks about all sorts of things
&nbsp;around the clock, on all sorts of levels, with interruptions from dozens
&nbsp;of biological calendars and timepieces.  There's thoughts about to be said,
&nbsp;and private thoughts, and real thoughts, and thoughts about thoughts, and
&nbsp;a whole gamut of subconscious thoughts.  To a telepath the human head is
&nbsp;a din.  It is a railway terminus with all the Tannoys talking at once.
&nbsp;It is a complete FM waveband--and some of those stations aren't reputable,
&nbsp;they're outlawed pirates on forbidden seas who play late-night records with
&nbsp;limbic lyrics.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Equal Rites, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 18-19
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;Smith took a spade from beside the back door and hesitated.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Granny."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Do you know how wizards like to be buried?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, how?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Granny paused at the bottom of the stairs.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Reluctantly."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Equal Rites, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 70
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;Granny sighed.  "You have learned something," she said, and thought it
&nbsp;was safe to insert a touch of sternness into her voice.  "They say that a
&nbsp;little knowledge is a dangerous thing, but it is not one half so bad as a
&nbsp;lot of ignorance."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Equal Rites, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 113-114 (Esk is a young girl)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;The barges stopped at some of the towns.  By tradition only the men went
&nbsp;ashore, and only Amschat, wearing his ceremonial Lying hat, spoke to
&nbsp;non-Zoons.  Esk usually went with him.  He tried hinting that she should
&nbsp;obey the unwritten rules of Zoon life and stay afloat, but a hint was to
&nbsp;Esk what a mosquito bite was to the average rhino because she was already
&nbsp;learning that if you ignore the rules people will, half the time, quietly
&nbsp;rewrite them so that they don't apply to you.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Equal Rites, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 119-120 (next passage is a direct continuation of this one)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;The town was smaller than Ohulan, and very different because it lay on the
&nbsp;junction of three trade routes quite apart from the river itself.  It was
&nbsp;built around one enormous square which was a cross between a permanent
&nbsp;exotic traffic jam and a tent village.  Camels kicked mules, mules kicked
&nbsp;horses, horses kicked camels and they all kicked humans; there was a riot
&nbsp;of colours, a din of noise, a nasal orchestration of smells and the steady,
&nbsp;heady sound of hundreds of people working hard at making money.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;One reason for the bustle was that over large parts of the continent other
&nbsp;people preferred to make money without working at all, and since the Disc
&nbsp;had yet to develop a music recording industry they were forced to fall back
&nbsp;on older, more traditional forms of banditry.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Strangely enough these often involved considerable effort.  Rolling heavy
&nbsp;rocks to the top of cliffs for a decent ambush, cutting down trees to
&nbsp;block the road, and digging a pit lined with spikes while still keeping a
&nbsp;wicked edge on a dagger probably involved a much greater expenditure of
&nbsp;thought and muscle than more socially-acceptable professions but,
&nbsp;nevertheless, there were still people misguided enough to endure all this,
&nbsp;plus long nights in uncomfortable surroundings, merely to get their hands
&nbsp;on perfectly ordinary large boxes of jewels.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Equal Rites, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 120-121 (this passage is a direct continuation of preceding one;
&nbsp;#              "I said, what is happening here?" actually omits "is"
&nbsp;#              but must be a typo--fixed here to avoid bug reports;
&nbsp;#              'broomstick' is Esk's disguised wizard's staff)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;So a town like Zemphis was the place where caravans split, mingled and
&nbsp;came together again, as dozens of merchants and travellers banded together
&nbsp;for protection against the socially disadvantaged on the trails ahead.
&nbsp;Esk, wandering unregarded amidst the bustle, learned all this by the simple
&nbsp;method of finding someone who looked important and tugging on the hem of
&nbsp;his coat.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;This particular man was counting bales of tobacco and would have succeeded
&nbsp;but for the interruption.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I said, what is happening here?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The man meant to say:  "Push off and bother someone else."  He meant to
&nbsp;give her a light cuff about the head.  So he was astonished to find himself
&nbsp;bending down and talking seriously to a small, grubby-faced child holding
&nbsp;a large broomstick (which also, it seemed to him later, was in some
&nbsp;indefinable way /paying attention/).
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He explained about the caravans.  The child nodded.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"People all get together to travel?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Precisely."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Where to?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"All sorts of places.  Sto Lat, Pseudopolis... Ankh-Morpork, of course...."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"But the river goes there," said Esk, reasonably.  "Barges.  The Zoons."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ah, yes," said the merchant, "but they charge high prices and they can't
&nbsp;carry everything and, anyway, no one trusts them much."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"But they're very honest!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Huh, yes," he said.  "But you know what they say:  never trust an honest
&nbsp;man."  He smiled knowingly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Who says that?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"They do.  You know.  People," he said, a certain uneasiness entering his
&nbsp;voice.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh," said Esk.  She thought about it.  "They must be very silly," she said
&nbsp;primly.  "Thank you, anyway."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Equal Rites, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 127-128 (this time broomstick is Granny's defective witch's broomstick)
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;The broomstick lay between two trestles.  Granny Weatherwax sat on a rock
&nbsp;outcrop while a dwarf half her height, wearing an apron that was a mass of
&nbsp;pockets, walked around the broom and occasionally poked it.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Eventually he kicked the bristles and gave a long intake of breath, a sort
&nbsp;of reverse whistle, which is the secret sign of craftsman across the
&nbsp;universe and means that something expensive is about to happen.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Weellll," he said.  "I could get the apprentices in to look at this, I
&nbsp;could.  It's an education in itself.  And you say it actually managed to
&nbsp;get airborne?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It flew like a bird," said Granny.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The dwarf lit a pipe.  "I should very much like to see that bird," he said
&nbsp;reflectively.  "I should imagine it's quite something to watch, a bird like
&nbsp;that."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes, but can you repair it?" said Granny.  "I'm in a hurry."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The dwarf sat down, slowly and deliberately.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"As for /repair/," he said, "well, I don't know about /repair/.  Rebuild,
&nbsp;maybe.  Of course, it's hard to get the bristles these days even if you can
&nbsp;find people to do the proper binding, and the spells need--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I don't want it rebuilt, I just want it to work properly," said Granny.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It's an early model, you see," the dwarf plugged on.  "Very tricky, those
&nbsp;early models.  You can't get the wood--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He was picked up bodily until his eyes were level with Granny's.  Dwarves,
&nbsp;being magical in themselves as it were, are quite resistant to magic but
&nbsp;her expression looked as though she was trying to weld his eyeballs to the
&nbsp;back of his skull.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Just repair it," she hissed.  "Please?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What, make a bodge job?" said the dwarf, his pipe clattering to the floor.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Patch it up, you mean?  Betray my training by doing half a job?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes," said Granny.  Her pupils were two little black holes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh," said the dwarf.  "Right, then."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Equal Rites, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 185 (actually uses four periods to mark a sentence ending in a ellipsis)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;There may be universes where librarianship is considered a peaceful sort of
&nbsp;occupation, and where the risks are limited to large volumes falling off
&nbsp;the shelves on to one's head, but the keeper of a /magic/ library is no job
&nbsp;for the unwary.  Spells have power, and merely writing them down and
&nbsp;shoving them between covers doesn't do anything to reduce it.  The stuff
&nbsp;leaks.  Books tend to react with one another, creating randomized magic
&nbsp;with a mind of its own.  Books of magic are usually chained to their
&nbsp;shelves, but not to prevent them being stolen....
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Equal Rites, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Mort (11)
&nbsp;# p. 136 (Signet edition; passage is a footnote;
&nbsp;#         Vetinari doesn't show up as recurring Patrician until /Sourcery/)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;Ankh-Morpork had dallied with many forms of government and had ended up
&nbsp;with that form of democracy known as One Man, One Vote.  The Patrician was
&nbsp;the Man; he had the Vote.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Mort, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 11
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;Mort was getting interested in the rock.  It had curly shells in it, relics
&nbsp;of the early days of the world when the Creator had made creatures out of
&nbsp;stone, no-one knew why.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Mort was interested in lots of things.  Why people's teeth fitted together
&nbsp;so neatly, for example.  He'd given that one a lot of thought.  Then there
&nbsp;was the puzzle of why the sun came out during the day, instead of at night
&nbsp;when the light would come in useful.  He knew the standard explanation,
&nbsp;which somehow didn't seem satisfying.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;In short, Mort is one of those people who are more dangerous than a bag
&nbsp;full of rattlesnakes.  He was determined to discover the underlying logic
&nbsp;behind the universe.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Which was going to be hard, because there wasn't one.  The Creator had a
&nbsp;lot of remarkably good ideas when he put the world together, but making it
&nbsp;understandable hadn't been one of them.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Mort, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 18
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;"But you're Death," said Mort.  "You go around killing people!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;I?  KILL? said Death, obviously offended.  CERTAINLY NOT.  PEOPLE /GET/
&nbsp;KILLED, BUT THAT'S THEIR BUSINESS.  I JUST TAKE OVER FROM THEN ON.  AFTER
&nbsp;ALL, IT'D BE A BLOODY STUPID WORLD IF PEOPLE GOT KILLED WITHOUT DYING,
&nbsp;WOULDN'T IT?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Mort, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 25
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;"Is it magic?" said Mort.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;WHAT DO YOU THINK? said Death.  AM I REALLY HERE, BOY?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes," said Mort slowly.  "I... I've watched people.  They look at you but
&nbsp;the don't see you, I think.  You do something to their minds."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Death shook his head.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;THEY DO IT ALL THEMSELVES, he said.  THERE'S NO MAGIC.  PEOPLE CAN'T SEE ME,
&nbsp;THEY SIMPLY WON'T ALLOW THEMSELVES TO DO IT.  UNTIL IT'S TIME, OF COURSE.
&nbsp;WIZARDS CAN SEE ME, AND CATS.  BUT YOUR AVERAGE HUMAN... NO, NEVER.  He blew
&nbsp;a smoke ring at the sky, and added, STRANGE BUT TRUE.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Mort, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 48-49 (Binky is Death's white horse, who was left 'parked' on a
&nbsp;#            castle's roof; Mort is Death's novice apprentice)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;They were on the roof before he spoke again.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;YOU TRIED TO WARN HIM, he said, removing Binky's nosebag.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes, sir.  Sorry."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;YOU CANNOT INTERFERE WITH FATE.  WHO ARE YOU TO JUDGE WHO SHOULD LIVE AND
&nbsp;WHO SHOULD DIE?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Death watched Mort's expression carefully.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;ONLY THE GODS ARE ALLOWED TO DO THAT, he added.  TO TINKER WITH THE FATE OF
&nbsp;EVEN ONE INDIVIDUAL COULD DESTROY THE WHOLE WORLD.  DO YOU UNDERSTAND?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Mort nodded miserably.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Are you going to send me home?" he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Death reached down and swung him up behind the saddle.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;BECAUSE YOU SHOWED COMPASSION?  NO.  I MIGHT HAVE DONE IF YOU HAD SHOWN
&nbsp;PLEASURE.  BUT YOU MUST LEARN THE COMPASSION PROPER TO YOUR TRADE.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What's that?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;A /SHARP/ EDGE.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Mort, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 59-61 (in Ankh-Morpork, Mort has accidentally walked through a wall
&nbsp;#            into an immigrant Klatchian family's dining room; 'the creature
&nbsp;#            who was not there' refers to Death during an earlier event)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;"I'm no demon!  I'm a human!" he said, and stopped in shock as his words
&nbsp;emerged in perfect Klatch.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You're a thief?" said the father.  "A murderer?  To creep in thus, are you
&nbsp;a /tax-gatherer/?"  His hand slipped under the table and came up holding a
&nbsp;meat cleaver honed to paper thinness.  His wife screamed and dropped the
&nbsp;plate and clutched the youngest children to her.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Mort watched the blade weave through the air, and gave in.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I bring you greetings from the uttermost circles of hell," he hazarded.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The change was remarkable.  The cleaver was lowered and the family broke
&nbsp;into broad smiles.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"There is much luck to us if a demon visits," beamed the father.  "What is
&nbsp;your wish, O foul spawn of Offler's loins?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Sorry?" said Mort.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"A demon brings blessing and good fortune on the man that helps it," said
&nbsp;the man.  "How may we be of assistance, O evil dogsbreath of the nether
&nbsp;pit?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, I'm not very hungry," said Mort, "but if you know where I can get a
&nbsp;fast horse, I could be in Sto Lat before sunset."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The man beamed and bowed.  "I know the very place, noxious extrusion of the
&nbsp;bowels, if you would be so good as to follow me."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Mort hurried out after him.  The ancient ancestor watched them go with a
&nbsp;critical expression, its jowls rhythmically chewing.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That was what they call a demon around here?" it said.  "Offler rot this
&nbsp;country of dampness, even their demons are third-rate, not a patch on the
&nbsp;demons we had in the Old Country."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The wife placed a small bowl of rice in the folded middle pair of hands of
&nbsp;the Offler statue (it would be gone in the morning) and stood back.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Husband did say that last month at the /Curry Gardens/ he served a creature
&nbsp;who was not there," she said.  "He was impressed."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Ten minutes later the man returned and, in solemn silence, placed a small
&nbsp;heap of gold coins on the table.  They represented enough wealth to
&nbsp;purchase quite a large part of the city.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"He had a bag of them," he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The family stared at the money for some time.  The wife sighed.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Riches bring many problems," she said.  "What are we to do?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"We return to Klatch," said the husband firmly, "where our children can grow
&nbsp;up in a proper country, true to the glorious traditions of our ancient race
&nbsp;and men do not need to work as waiters for wicked masters but can stand tall
&nbsp;and proud.  And we must leave right now, fragrant blossom of the date palm."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Why so soon, O hard-working son of the desert?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Because," said the man, "I have just sold the Patrician's champion
&nbsp;racehorse."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Mort, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 139-140 (passage ends mid-sentence)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;"You don't know much about monarchy, do you?" said Keli.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Um, no?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"She means better to be a dead queen in your own castle than a live
&nbsp;commoner somewhere else," said Cutwell, [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Mort, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 158
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;"You mean you won't help?" said Mort.  "Not even if you can?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Give the boy a prize," growled Albert.  "And it's no good thinking you can
&nbsp;appeal to my better nature under this here crusty exterior," he added,
&nbsp;"'cos my interior's pretty damn crusty too."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Mort, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 159-160 (Death has come to an employment agency--a new concept in
&nbsp;#              Ankh-Morpork--looking for a job)
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;"And what was your previous position?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;I BEG YOUR PARDON?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What did you do for a living?" said the thin young man behind the desk.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;I USHERED SOULS INTO THE NEXT WORLD.  I WAS THE GRAVE OF ALL HOPE.  I WAS
&nbsp;THE ULTIMATE REALITY.  I WAS THE ASSASSIN AGAINST WHOM NO LOCK WOULD HOLD.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes, point taken, but do you have any particular skills?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;I SUPPOSE A CERTAIN AMOUNT OF EXPERTISE WITH AGRICULTURAL IMPLEMENTS? he
&nbsp;ventured after a while.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The young man shook his head firmly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;NO?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Mort, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 205
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;Death raised his skull and sniffed the air.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The sound cut through all the other noises in the hall and forced them
&nbsp;into silence.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It is the kind of noise that is heard on the twilight edges of dreams,
&nbsp;the sort that you wake from in the cold sweat of mortal horror.  It was
&nbsp;the snuffling under the door of dread.  It was like the snuffling of a
&nbsp;hedgehog, but if so then it was the kind of hedgehog that crashes out of
&nbsp;the verges and flattens lorries.  It was the kind of noise you wouldn't
&nbsp;want to hear twice; you wouldn't want to hear it /once/.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Mort, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 207
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;"Well, that was a lesson to all of us," the bursar continued, brushing dust
&nbsp;and candle wax off his robe.  He looked up, expecting to see the statue of
&nbsp;Alberto Malich back on its pedestal.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Clearly even statues have feelings," he said.  "I myself recall, when I
&nbsp;was but a first-year student, writing my name on his... well, never mind.
&nbsp;The point is, I propose here and now we replace the statue."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Dead silence greeted this suggestion.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"With, say, an exact likeness cast in gold.  Suitably embellished with
&nbsp;jewels, as befits our great founder," he went on brightly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And to make sure no students deface it in any way I suggest we then erect
&nbsp;it in the deepest cellar," he continued.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And then lock the door," he added.  Several wizards began to cheer up.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And throw away the key?" said Rincewind.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And /weld/ the door," the bursar said.  He had just remembered about The
&nbsp;Mended Drum.  He thought for a while and remembered about the physical
&nbsp;fitness regime as well.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And then brick up the doorway," he said.  There was a round of applause.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And throw away the brick layer!" chortled Rincewind, who felt he was
&nbsp;getting the hang of this.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The bursar scowled at him.  "No need to get carried away," he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Mort, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Sourcery (10)
&nbsp;# p. 9 (Signet edition; passage starts mid-paragraph and ends mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;"[...]  And what would humans be without love?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;RARE, said Death.  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Sourcery, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;They suffered from the terrible delusion that something could be done.
&nbsp;They seemed prepared to make the world the way they wanted it or die in the
&nbsp;attempt, and the trouble with dying in the attempt was that you died in
&nbsp;the attempt.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Sourcery, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 11 ('worth while': two words is accurate, although strange)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;"I meant," said Ipslore, bitterly, "what is there in this world that makes
&nbsp;living worth while?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;CATS, he said eventually, CATS ARE NICE.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Curse you!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;MANY HAVE, said Death evenly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Sourcery, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 40-41 (text has 'the moment and the words' which is obviously a typo;
&nbsp;#            it might have intended 'that' for 'and'; we just drop 'and')
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;The thief, as will become apparent, was a special type of thief.  This
&nbsp;thief was an artist of theft.  Other thieves merely stole everything that
&nbsp;was not nailed down, but this thief stole the nails as well.  This thief
&nbsp;had scandalised Ankh by taking a particular interest in stealing, with
&nbsp;astonishing success, things that were in fact not only nailed down but
&nbsp;also guarded by keen-eyed guards in inaccessible strongrooms.  There are
&nbsp;artists that will paint an entire chapel ceiling; this was the kind of
&nbsp;thief that could steal it.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;This particular thief was credited with stealing the jeweled disemboweling
&nbsp;knife from the temple of Offler the Crocodile God during the middle of
&nbsp;Evensong, and the silver shoes from the Patrician's finest racehorse
&nbsp;while it was in the process of winning a race.  When Gritoller Mimpsey,
&nbsp;vice-president of the Thieves' Guild, was jostled in the marketplace and
&nbsp;then found on returning home that a freshly-stolen handful of diamonds
&nbsp;had vanished from their place of concealment, he knew who to blame.(1)
&nbsp;This was the type of thief that could steal the initiative, the moment the
&nbsp;words were out of your mouth.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) This was because Gritoller had swallowed the jewels for safe keeping.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Sourcery, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 63-64 ('Compleet', 'Majik', 'enterr', 'physycal', 'hys', 'bodie',
&nbsp;#            'Destinie', 'Deathe', 'werre', 'nowe', 'menne', 'Ende',
&nbsp;#            'Worlde', 'hadd', 'bee', 'goddes', 'ould', 'Apocralypse',
&nbsp;#            'legende', 'thee': all accurate; 'ould' may be a typo...)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;It was deathly quiet in the Library.  The books were no longer frantic.
&nbsp;They'd passed through their fear and out into the calm waters of abject
&nbsp;terror, and they crouched on their shelves like so many mesmerised rabbits.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;A long hairy arm reached up and grabbed /Casplock's Compleet Lexicon of
&nbsp;Majik and Precepts for the Wise/ before it could back away, soothed its
&nbsp;terror with a long-fingered hand, and opened it under 'S'.  The Librarian
&nbsp;smoothed the trembling page gently and ran a horny nail down the entries
&nbsp;until he came to:
&nbsp;
&nbsp;    *Sourceror*, /n. (mythical).  A proto-wizard, a doorway through/
&nbsp;    /which new majik may enterr the world, a wizard not limited by/
&nbsp;    /the physycal capabilities of hys own bodie, not by Destinie,/
&nbsp;    /nor by Deathe.  It is written that there once werre sourcerors/
&nbsp;    /in the youth of the world but not may there by nowe and blessed/
&nbsp;    /be, for sourcery is not for menne and the return of sourcery/
&nbsp;    /would mean the Ende of the Worlde...  If the Creator hadd meant/
&nbsp;    /menne to bee as goddes, he ould have given them wings./
&nbsp;    /SEE ALSO:  thee Apocralypse, the legende of thee Ice Giants,/
&nbsp;    /and thee Teatime of the Goddes./
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The Librarian read the cross-references, turned back to the first entry,
&nbsp;and stared at it through deep dark eyes for a long time.  Then he put the
&nbsp;book back carefully, crept under his desk, and pulled the blanket over
&nbsp;his head.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Sourcery, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 71-72
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;The current Patrician, head of the extremely rich and powerful Vetinari
&nbsp;family, was thin, tall and apparently as cold-blooded as a dead penguin.
&nbsp;Just by looking at him you could tell he was the sort of man you'd expect
&nbsp;to keep a white cat, and caress it idly while sentencing people to death
&nbsp;in a piranha tank; and you'd hazard for good measure that he probably
&nbsp;collected rare, thin porcelain, turning it over and over in his blue-white
&nbsp;fingers while distant screams echoed from the depths of the dungeons.  You
&nbsp;wouldn't put it past him to use the word "exquisite" and have thin lips.
&nbsp;He looked the kind of person who, when they blinked, you mark it off on
&nbsp;the calendar.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Practically none of this was in fact the case, although he did have a small
&nbsp;and exceedingly elderly wire-haired terrier called Wuffles that smelled
&nbsp;badly and wheezed at people.  It was said to be the only thing in the
&nbsp;entire world he truly cared about.  He did of course sometimes have people
&nbsp;horribly tortured to death, but this was considered to be perfectly
&nbsp;acceptable behaviour for a civic ruler and generally approved of by the
&nbsp;overwhelming majority of citizens.(1)  The people of Ankh are of a
&nbsp;practical persuasion, and felt that the Patrician's edict forbidding all
&nbsp;street theatre and mime artists made up for a lot of things.  He didn't
&nbsp;administer a reign of terror, just the occasional light shower.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) The overwhelming majority of citizens being defined in this case as
&nbsp;everyone not currently hanging upside down over a scorpion pit.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Sourcery, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 75
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;"What exactly /is/ the Aprocralypse?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Rincewind hesitated.  "Well," he said, "it's the end of the world.  Sort
&nbsp;of."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Sort of?  /Sort of/ the end of the world?  You mean we won't be certain?
&nbsp;We'll all look around and say 'Pardon me, did you hear something?'?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It's just that no two seers have ever agreed about it.  There have been
&nbsp;all kinds of vague predictions.  Quite mad, some of them.  So it was
&nbsp;called the Apocralypse."  He looked embarrassed.  "It's a sort of
&nbsp;apocryphal Apocalypse.  A kin of pun, you see."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Sourcery, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 110
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;"You're very quiet, Spelter.  Do you not agree?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;No.  The world had sourcery once, and gave it up for wizardry.  Wizardry is
&nbsp;magic for men, not gods.  It's not for us.  There was something wrong with
&nbsp;it, and we have forgotten what it was.  I liked wizardry.  It didn't upset
&nbsp;the world.  It fitted.  It was right.  A wizard was all I wanted to be.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He looked down at his feet.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes," he whispered.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Sourcery, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 141-142 (Rincewind and Nijel have just entered a harem)
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;Rincewind had eyes for none of this.  [...] they were swamped by the
&nbsp;considerably bigger flood of panic at the sight of four guards turning
&nbsp;towards him with scimitars in their hands and the light of murder in their
&nbsp;eyes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Without hesitation, Rincewind took a step backwards.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Over to you, friend," he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Right!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Nijel drew his sword and held it out in front of him, his arms trembling at
&nbsp;the effort.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There were a few seconds of total silence as everyone waited to see what
&nbsp;would happen next.  And then Nijel uttered the battle cry that Rincewind
&nbsp;would never quite forget to the end of this life.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Erm," he said, "excuse me...."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Sourcery, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 198-199
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;The astro-philosophers of Krull once succeeded in proving conclusively
&nbsp;that all places are one place and that the distance between them is an
&nbsp;illusion, and this news was an embarrassment to all thinking philosophers
&nbsp;because it did not explain, among other things, signposts.  After years of
&nbsp;wrangling the whole thing was then turned over to Ly Tin Wheedle, arguably
&nbsp;the Disc's greatest philosopher,(1) who after some thought proclaimed that
&nbsp;although it was indeed true that all places were one place, that place was
&nbsp;/very large/.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And so psychic order was restored.  Distance is, however, an entirely
&nbsp;subjective phenomenon and creatures of magic can adjust it to suit
&nbsp;themselves.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;They are not necessarily very good at it.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) He always argued that he was.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Sourcery, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Wyrd Sisters (15)
&nbsp;# p. 318 (ROC edition; passage starts mid-paragraph;
&nbsp;#         speaker is Granny Weatherwax)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;"[...]  Destiny /is/ important, see, but people go wrong when they think it
&nbsp;controls them.  It's the other way around."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 105-106
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;Verence tried to avoid walking through walls.  A man had his dignity.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He became aware that he was being watched.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He turned his head.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There was a cat sitting in the doorway, subjecting him to a slow blink.  It
&nbsp;was a mottled grey and extremely fat...
&nbsp;
&nbsp;No.  It was extremely /big/.  It was covered with so much scar tissue that
&nbsp;it looked like a fist with fur on it.  Its ears were a couple of perforated
&nbsp;stubs, its eyes two yellow slits of easy-going malevolence, its tail a
&nbsp;twitching series of question marks as it stared at him.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Greebo had heard that Lady Felmet had a small white female cat and had
&nbsp;strolled up to pay his respects.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Verence had never seen an animal with so much built-in villainy.  He didn't
&nbsp;resist as it waddled across the floor and dried to rub itself against his
&nbsp;legs, purring like a waterfall.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, well," said the king, vaguely.  He reached down and made an effort
&nbsp;to scratch it behind the two ragged bits on top of its head.   It was a
&nbsp;relief to find someone else besides another ghost who could see him, and
&nbsp;Greebo, he couldn't help feeling, was a distinctly unusual cat.  Most of
&nbsp;the castle cats were either pampered pets or flat-eared kitchen and stable
&nbsp;habitues who generally resembled the very rodents they lived on.  This cat,
&nbsp;on the other hand, was its own animal.  All cats give that impression, of
&nbsp;course, but instead of the mindless animal self-absorption that passes for
&nbsp;secret wisdom in the creatures, Greebo radiated genuine intelligence.  He
&nbsp;also radiated a smell that would have knocked over a wall and caused sinus
&nbsp;trouble in a dead fox.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 14-15
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;He wondered if ghosts hunted.  Almost certainly not, he imagined.  Or ate,
&nbsp;or drank either for that matter, and that was really depressing.  He liked
&nbsp;a big noisy banquet and had quaffed(1) many a pint of good ale.  And bad
&nbsp;ale, come to that.  He'd never been able to tell the difference till the
&nbsp;following morning, usually.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Quaffing is like drinking, but you spill more.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 60-61 (dwarfish mechanics: see /Equal Rites/)
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;Granny Weatherwax milked and fed the goats, banked the fire, and put a
&nbsp;cloth over the mirror and pulled her broomstick out from behind the door.
&nbsp;She went out, locked the door behind her, and hung the key on its nail in
&nbsp;the privy.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;This was quite sufficient.  Only once, in the entire history of witchery
&nbsp;in the Ramtops, had a thief broken into a witch's cottage.  The witch
&nbsp;concerned visited the most terrible punishment on him.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Granny sat on the broom and muttered a few words, but without much
&nbsp;conviction.  After a further couple of tries, she got off, fiddled with
&nbsp;the binding, and had another go.  There was a suspicion of glitter from
&nbsp;one end of the stick, which quickly died away.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Drat," she said, under her breath.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;She looked around carefully, in case anyone was watching.  In fact it was
&nbsp;only a hunting badger who, hearing the thumping of running feet, poked its
&nbsp;head out from the bushes and saw Granny hurtling down the path with the
&nbsp;broomstick held stiff-armed beside her.  At last the magic caught, and she
&nbsp;managed to vault clumsily on to it before it trundled into the night sky
&nbsp;as gracefully as a duck with one wing missing.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;From above the trees came a muffled curse against all dwarfish mechanics.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) She did nothing, although sometimes when she saw him in the village
&nbsp;she'd smile in a faint, puzzled way.  After three weeks of this the
&nbsp;suspense was too much for him and he took his own life; in fact he took it
&nbsp;all the way across the continent, where he became a reformed character and
&nbsp;never went home again.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 76 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;And, with alarming suddenness, nothing happened.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 82 ('/Good/ fool': lowercase 'fool' is accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;"Is this a dagger I see before me?" he mumbled.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Um.  No, my lord.  It's my hankerchief, you see.  You can sort of tell the
&nbsp;difference if you look closely.  It doesn't have as many sharp edges."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"/Good/ fool," said the duke, vaguely.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Totally mad, the Fool thought.  Several bricks short of a bundle.  So far
&nbsp;round the twist you could use him to open wine bottles.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Kneel beside me," my Fool.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The Fool did so.  The duke laid a soiled bandage on his shoulder.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Are you loyal, Fool?" he said.  "Are you trustworthy?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I swore to follow my lord until death," said the Fool hoarsely.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The duke pressed his mad face close to the Fool, who looked up into a pair
&nbsp;of bloodshot eyes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I didn't want to," he hissed conspiratorially.  "They made me do it.  I
&nbsp;didn't want--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The door swung open.  The duchess filled the doorway.  In fact, she was
&nbsp;nearly the same shape.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Leonal!" she barked.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The fool was fascinated by what happened to the duke's eyes.  The mad red
&nbsp;flame vanished, was sucked backwards, and replaced by the hard blue stare
&nbsp;he had come to recognize.  It didn't mean, he realized, that the duke was
&nbsp;any less mad.  Even the coldness of his sanity was madness in a way.  The
&nbsp;duke had a mind that ticked like a clock and, like a clock, it regularly
&nbsp;went cuckoo.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 85
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;On the crest of the moor, where in the summer partridges lurked among the
&nbsp;bushes like small, whirring idiots, was a standing stone.  It stood roughly
&nbsp;where the witches' territories met, although the boundaries were never
&nbsp;formally marked out.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The stone was about the same height as a tall man, and made of a bluish
&nbsp;tinted rock.  It was considered intensely magical because, although there
&nbsp;was only one of it, /no-one had ever been able to count it/; if it saw
&nbsp;anyone looking at it speculatively, it shuffled behind them.  It was the
&nbsp;most self-effacing monolith ever discovered.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 92 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;Demons were like genies or philosophy professors--if you didn't word things
&nbsp;/exactly/ right, they delighted in giving you absolutely accurate and
&nbsp;completely misleading answers.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 121
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;Nanny Ogg was also out early.  She hadn't been able to get any sleep
&nbsp;anyway, and besides, she was worried about Greebo.  Greebo was one of her
&nbsp;few blind spots.  While intellectually she would concede that he was
&nbsp;indeed a fat, cunning, evil-smelling multiple rapist, she nevertheless
&nbsp;instinctively pictured him as the small fluffy kitten he had been decades
&nbsp;before.  The fact that he had once chased a female wolf up a tree and
&nbsp;seriously surprised a she-bear who had been innocently digging for roots
&nbsp;didn't stop her worrying that something bad might happen to him.  It was
&nbsp;generally considered by everyone else in the kingdom that the only thing
&nbsp;that might slow Greebo down was a direct meteorite strike.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 133 (the duke has locked Nanny Ogg in the castle dungeon)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;"I really advise you all to return home," said Granny Weatherwax.  "There
&nbsp;has probably been a misunderstanding.  Everyone knows a witch cannot be
&nbsp;held against her will."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It's gone too far this time," said a peasant.  "All this burning and
&nbsp;taxing and now this.  I blame you witches.  It's got to stop.  I know my
&nbsp;rights."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What rights are they?" said Granny.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Dunnage, cowhage-in-ordinary, badinage, leftovers, scrommidge, clary and
&nbsp;spunt." said the peasant promptly.  "And acornage, every other year, and
&nbsp;the right to keep two-thirds of a goat on the common.  Until he set fire to
&nbsp;it.  It was a bloody good goat, too."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"A man could go far, knowing his rights like you do," said Granny.  "But
&nbsp;right now he should go home."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 164
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;"Whatever happened to the rule about not meddling in politics?" said Magrat,
&nbsp;watching her retreating back.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Nanny Ogg massaged some like back into her fingers.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"By Hoki, that woman's got a jaw like an anvil," she said.  "What was that?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I said, what about this rule about not meddling?" said Magrat.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ah," said Nanny. She took the girl's arm.  "The thing is," she explained,
&nbsp;"as you advance in the Craft, you'll learn there is another rule.  Esme's
&nbsp;obeyed it all her life."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And what's that?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"When you break rules, break 'em good and hard," said Nanny, and grinned a
&nbsp;set of gums that were more menacing than teeth.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 238
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;"I mean it.  Look at me.  I wasn't supposed to be writing plays.  Dwarfs
&nbsp;aren't even supposed to be able to /read/.  I shouldn't worry too much
&nbsp;about destiny, if I was you.  I was destined to be a miner.  Destiny gets
&nbsp;it wrong half the time."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"But you said he looks like the Fool person.  I can't see it myself, mark
&nbsp;you."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"The light's got to be right."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Could be some destiny at work there."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Hwel shrugged.  Destiny was funny stuff, he knew.  You couldn't trust it.
&nbsp;Often you couldn't even see it.  Just when you knew you had it cornered, it
&nbsp;turned out to be something else--coincidence, maybe, or providence.  You
&nbsp;barred the door against it, and it was standing behind you.  Then just when
&nbsp;you thought you had it nailed down it walked away with the hammer.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He used destiny a lot.  As a tool for his plays it was even better than a
&nbsp;ghost.  There was nothing like a bit of destiny to get the old plot rolling.
&nbsp;But it was a mistake to think you could spot the shape of it.  And as for
&nbsp;thinking it could be controlled...
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 242 (passage starts mid-paragraph; Lancre has recently come out of a
&nbsp;#         magic-induced 15-year stasis; 'things ... is': 'things' plural is
&nbsp;#         accurate, though probably a typo)
&nbsp;%passage 13
&nbsp;On top of the general suspicion of witches, it was dawning on the few people
&nbsp;in Lancre who had any dealings with the outside world that a) either more
&nbsp;things had been happening than they had heard about before or b) time was
&nbsp;out of joint.  It wasn't easy to prove(1) but the few traders who came along
&nbsp;the mountain tracks after the winter seemed to be rather older than they
&nbsp;should have been.  Unexplained happenings were always more or less expected
&nbsp;in the Ramtops because of the high magical potential, but several years
&nbsp;disappearing overnight was a bit of a first.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Because of the way time was recorded among the various states, kingdoms
&nbsp;and cities.  After all, when over an area of a hundred square miles the same
&nbsp;year is variously the Year of the Small Bat, the Anticipated Monkey, the
&nbsp;Hunting Cloud, Fat Cows, Three Bright Stallions and at least nine numbers
&nbsp;recording the time since(2) assorted kings, prophets, and strange events were
&nbsp;either crowned, born or happened, and each year was a different number of
&nbsp;months, and some of them don't have weeks, and one of them refuses to accept
&nbsp;the day as a measure of time, the only things it is possible to be sure of
&nbsp;is that good sex doesn't last long enough.(3)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(2) The calendar of the Theocracy of Muntab counts /down/, not up.  No-one
&nbsp;knows why, but it might not be a good idea to hang around and find out.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(3) Except for the Zapingo tribe of the Great Nef, of course.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 250 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 14
&nbsp;It was a land of describable beauty.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 265 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 15
&nbsp;The past used to be a lot better than it is now.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Pyramids (11)
&nbsp;# p. 218 (ROC edition)
&nbsp;%passage 1 (passage ends mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;What a chap needed at a time like this was a sign, some sort of book of
&nbsp;instructions.  The trouble with life was that you didn't get a chance to
&nbsp;practice before doing it for real.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Pyramids, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 128 (passage starts mid-paragraph and ends mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;Mere animals couldn't possibly manage to act like this.  You need to be a
&nbsp;human being to be really stupid.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Pyramids, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 9-10 ('tlingas' is accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;It was a full-length mirror.  All assassins had a full-length mirror in
&nbsp;their rooms, because it would be a terrible insult to anyone to kill them
&nbsp;when you were badly dressed.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Teppic examined himself critically.  The outfit had cost him his last
&nbsp;penny, and was heavy on the black silk.  It whispered as he moved.  It was
&nbsp;pretty good.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;At least the headache was going.  It had nearly crippled him all day; he'd
&nbsp;been in dread of having to start the run with purple spots in front of his
&nbsp;eyes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He sighed and opened the black box and took out his rings and slipped them
&nbsp;on.  Another box held a set of knives of Klatchian steel, their blades
&nbsp;darkened with lamp black.  Various cunning and intricate devices were taken
&nbsp;from velvet bags and dropped into pockets.  A couple of long-bladed
&nbsp;throwing /tlingas/ were slipped into their sheaths inside his boots.  A
&nbsp;thin silk line and folding grapnel were wound around his waist, over the
&nbsp;chain-mail shirt.  A blowpipe was attached to its leather thong and dropped
&nbsp;down his back under his cloak; Teppic pocketed a slim tin container with an
&nbsp;assortment of darts, their tips corked and their stems braille-coded for
&nbsp;ease of selection in the dark.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He winced, checked the blade of his rapier and slung the baldric over his
&nbsp;right shoulder, to balance the bag of lead slingshot ammunition.  As an
&nbsp;afterthought he opened his sock drawer and took a pistol crossbow, a flask
&nbsp;of oil, a roll of lockpicks and, after some consideration, a punch dagger,
&nbsp;a bag of assorted caltraps and a set of brass knuckles.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Teppic picked up his hat and checked its lining for the coil of cheesewire.
&nbsp;He placed it on his head at a jaunty angle, took a last satisfied look at
&nbsp;himself in the mirror, turned on his heel and, very slowly, fell over.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Pyramids, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 30
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;He'd always remember the first night in the dormitory.  It was long enough
&nbsp;to accommodate all eighteen boys in Viper House, and draughty enough to
&nbsp;accommodate the great outdoors.  Its designer may have had comfort in mind,
&nbsp;but only so that he could avoid it whenever possible:  he had contrived a
&nbsp;room that could actually be colder than the weather outside.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Pyramids, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 92
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;A few stars had been let out early.  Teppic looked up at them.  Perhaps, he
&nbsp;thought, there is life somewhere else.  On the stars, maybe.  If it's true
&nbsp;that there are billions of universes stacked along side one another, the
&nbsp;thickness of a thought apart, then there must be people elsewhere.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;But wherever they are, no matter how mightily they try, no matter how
&nbsp;magnificent the effort, they surely can't manage to be as godawfully stupid
&nbsp;as us.  I mean, we work at it.  We were given a spark of it to start with,
&nbsp;but over hundreds of thousands of years we've really improved on it.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Pyramids, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 96 (Ptaclusp the pyramid builder, sons Ptaclusp IIa and Ptaclusp IIb)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;Descendants!  The gods had seen fit to give him one son who charged you for
&nbsp;the amount of breath expended in saying "Good morning", and another one who
&nbsp;worshipped geometry and stayed up all night designing aqueducts.  You
&nbsp;scrimped and saved to send them to the best schools, and then they went and
&nbsp;paid you back by getting educated.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Pyramids, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 136
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;It's a fact as immutable as the Third Law of Sod that there is no such
&nbsp;thing as a good Grand Vizier.  A predilection to cackle and plot is
&nbsp;apparently part of the job spec.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;High priests tend to get put in the same category.  They have to face the
&nbsp;implied assumption that no sooner do they get the funny hat than they're
&nbsp;issuing strange orders, e.g., princesses tied to rocks for itinerant sea
&nbsp;monsters and throwing little babies in the sea.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;This is a gross slander.  Throughout the history of the Disc most high
&nbsp;priests have been serious, pious and conscientious men who have done their
&nbsp;best to interpret the wishes of the gods, sometimes disembowelling or
&nbsp;flaying alive hundreds of people in a day in order to make sure they're
&nbsp;getting it absolutely right.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Pyramids, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 206-208 (text has 'that's now it happened'; 'now' changed to 'how' here)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;Copolymer, the greatest storyteller in the history of the world, sat back
&nbsp;and beamed at the greatest minds in the world, assembled at the dining
&nbsp;table.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Teppic had added another iota to his store of new knowledge.  'Symposium'
&nbsp;meant a knife-and-fork tea.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well," said Copolymer, and launched into the story of the Tsortean Wars.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You see, what happened was, /he'd/ taken /her/ back home, and her
&nbsp;father--this wasn't the old king, this was the one before, the one with the
&nbsp;wossname, he married some girl from over Elharib way, she had a squint,
&nbsp;what was her name now, began with a P.  Or an L.  One of them letters,
&nbsp;anyway.  Her father owned an island out on the bay there, Papylos I think
&nbsp;it was.  No, I tell a lie, it was Crinix.  /Anyway/ the king, the other
&nbsp;king, he raised an army and they....  Elenor, that was her name.  She had
&nbsp;a squint, you know.  But quite attractive, they say.  When I say married,
&nbsp;I trust I do not have to spell it out for you.  I mean, it was a bit
&nbsp;unofficial.  Er.  Anyway, there was this wooden horse and after they'd got
&nbsp;in...  Did I tell you about this horse?  It was a horse.  I'm pretty sure
&nbsp;it was a horse.  Or maybe it was a chicken.  Forget my own name next!  It
&nbsp;was wossname's idea, the one with the limp.  Yes.  The limp in his leg, I
&nbsp;mean.  Did I mention him?  There'd been this fight.  No, that was the other
&nbsp;one, I think.  Yes.  Anyway, this wooden pig, damn clever idea, they made
&nbsp;it out of thing.  Tip of my tongue.  Wood.  But that was later, you know.
&nbsp;The fight!  Nearly forgot the fight.  Yes.  Damn good fight.  Everyone
&nbsp;banging on their shields and yelling.  Wossname's armour shone like shining
&nbsp;armour.  Fight and a half, that fight.  Between thingy, not the one with
&nbsp;the limp, the other one, wossname, had red hair.  /You/ know.  Tall fellow,
&nbsp;talked with a lisp.  Hold on, just remembered, he was from some other
&nbsp;island.  Not him.  The other one, with the limp.  Didn't want to go, he
&nbsp;said he was mad.  Of course, he /was/ bloody mad, definitely.  I mean, a
&nbsp;wooden cow!  Like wossname said, the king, no not that king, the other one,
&nbsp;he saw the goat, he said 'I fear the Ephibeans, especially when they're mad
&nbsp;enough to leave bloody great wooden livestock on the doorstep, talk about
&nbsp;nerve, they must think we was born yesterday, set fire to it,' and, of
&nbsp;course, wossname had nipped in round the back and put everyone to the
&nbsp;sword, talk about laugh.  Did I say she had a squint?  They said she was
&nbsp;pretty, but it takes all sorts.  Yes.  Anyway, that's how it happened.
&nbsp;/Now/, of course, wossname--I think he was called Melycanus, had a limp--he
&nbsp;wanted to go home, well, you would, they'd been there for /years/, he
&nbsp;wasn't getting any younger.  That's why he dreamt up the thing about the
&nbsp;wooden wossname.  Yes.  I tell a lie, Lavaelous was the one with the knee.
&nbsp;Pretty good fight, that fight, take it from me."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He lapsed into self-satisfied silence.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Pretty good fight," he mumbled and, smiling faintly, dropped off to sleep.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Teppic was aware that his own mouth was hanging open.  He shut it.  Along
&nbsp;the table several of the diners were wiping their eyes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Magic," said Xeno.  "Sheer magic.  Every word a tassle on the canopy of
&nbsp;Time."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It's the way he remembers every tiny detail.  Pin sharp," murmured Ibid.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Pyramids, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 211
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;"I'd love to stay and listen to you listening to me all day," he said.
&nbsp;"But there's a man over there I'd like to see."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That's amazing," said Endos, making a short note and turning his attention
&nbsp;to a conversation further along the table.  A philosopher had averred that
&nbsp;although truth was beauty, beauty was not necessarily truth, and a fight was
&nbsp;breaking out.  Endos listened carefully.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) The role of listeners has never been fully appreciated.  However, it is
&nbsp;well known that most people don't listen.  They use the time when someone
&nbsp;else is speaking to think of what they're going to say next.  True Listeners
&nbsp;have always been revered among oral cultures, and prized for their rarity
&nbsp;value; bards and poets are ten a cow, but a good Listener is hard to find,
&nbsp;or at least hard to find twice.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Pyramids, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 278 (perhaps ought to end this one with the first paragraph...)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;In the middle of the firestorm the Great Pyramid appeared to lift up a few
&nbsp;inches, on a beam of incandescence, and turn through ninety degrees.  This
&nbsp;was almost certainly the special type of optical illusion which can take
&nbsp;place /even though no-one is actually looking at it/.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And then, with deceptive slowness and considerable dignity, it exploded.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It was almost too crass a word.  What it did was this:  it came apart
&nbsp;ponderously into building-sized chunks which drifted gently away from one
&nbsp;another, flying serenely out and over the necropolis.  Several of them
&nbsp;struck other pyramids, badly damaging them in a lazy, unselfconscious way,
&nbsp;and then bounded on in silence until they ploughed to a halt behind a small
&nbsp;mountain of rubble.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Only then did the boom come.  It went on for quite a long time.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Pyramids, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 280 (passage starts mid-paragraph and ends mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;Man was never intended to understand things he meddled with.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Pyramids, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Guards! Guards! (14)
&nbsp;# p. 283 (ROC edition)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;"I see you're very comfortable here," said Vimes weakly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Never build a dungeon you wouldn't be happy to spend the night in
&nbsp;yourself," said the Patrician, laying out the food on the cloth.  "The
&nbsp;world would be a happier place if more people remembered that."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Guards! Guards!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 133
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;These weren't encouraged in the city, since the heft and throw of a
&nbsp;longbow's arrow could send it through an innocent bystander a hundred
&nbsp;yards away rather than the innocent bystander at whom it was aimed.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Guards! Guards!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 26 (first and second paragraphs are actually end of one section,
&nbsp;#        start of next one; first 'Thunder rolled...' had three dot
&nbsp;#        ellipsis, second has four, elipsis plus final period--
&nbsp;#        first changed to four here so that they match)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;Thunder rolled....
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It is said that the gods play games with the lives of men.  But what games,
&nbsp;and why, and the identities of the actual pawns, and what the game is, and
&nbsp;what the rules are--who knows?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Best not to speculate.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Thunder rolled....
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It rolled a six.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Guards! Guards!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 48 (passage is a footnote)
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;One of the remarkable innovations introduced by the Patrician was to make
&nbsp;the Thieves' Guilde /responsible/ for theft, with annual budgets, forward
&nbsp;planning and, above all, rigid job protection.  Thus, in return for an
&nbsp;agreed average level of crime per annum, the thieves themselves saw to it
&nbsp;that unauthorized crime was met with the full force of Injustice, which was
&nbsp;generally a stick with nails in it.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Guards! Guards!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 87 (passage ends mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"Well, sir," he said, "I know that dragons have been extinct for thousands
&nbsp;of years, sir--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes?"  The Patrician's eyes narrowed.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Vimes plunged on.  "But sir, the thing is, do /they/ know?"  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Guards! Guards!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 114 (passage is a footnote)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;The Guild of Fire Fighters had been outlawed by the Patrician the previous
&nbsp;year after many complaints.  The point was that, if you bought a contract
&nbsp;from the Guild, your house would be protected against fire.  Unfortunately,
&nbsp;the general Ankh-Morpork ethos quickly came to the fore and fire fighters
&nbsp;would tend to go to prospective clients' houses in groups, making loud
&nbsp;comments like "Very inflammable looking place, this" and "Probably go up
&nbsp;like a firework with just one carelessly dropped match, know what I mean?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Guards! Guards!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 131 (Sherlock Holmes)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;Once you've ruled out the impossible then whatever is left, however
&nbsp;improbable, must be the truth.  The problem lay in working out what was
&nbsp;impossible, of course.  That was the trick, all right.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There was also the curious incident of the orangutan in the night-time....
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Guards! Guards!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 150 (Dirty Harry with a small swamp dragon rather than a .45 Magnum...)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;A streak of green fire blasted out of the back of the shed, passed a foot
&nbsp;over the heads of the mob, and burned a charred rosette in the woodwork
&nbsp;over the door.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Then came a voice that was a honeyed purr of shear deadly menace.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"/This is Lord Mountjoy Quickfang Winterforth IV, the hottest dragon in the
&nbsp;city.  It could burn your head clean off./"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Captain Vimes limped forward from the shadows.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;A small and extremely frightened golden dragon was clamped firmly under one
&nbsp;arm.  His other hand held it by the tail.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The rioters watched it, hypnotised.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Now I know what you're thinking," Vimes went on, softly.  "You're
&nbsp;wondering, after all this excitement, has it got enough flame left?  And,
&nbsp;y'know, I ain't so sure myself..."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He leaned forward, sighting between the dragon's ears, and his voice
&nbsp;buzzed like a knife blade:
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What you've got to ask yourself is:  Am I feeling lucky?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;They swayed backwards as he advanced.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well?" he said.  "/Are/ you feeling lucky?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Guards! Guards!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 154 (passage is a footnote; ten pages later, Sergeant Colon uses the
&nbsp;#         old version of the proverb)
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;The phrase "Set a thief to catch a thief" had by this time (after strong
&nbsp;representations from the Thieves' Guilde) replaced a much older and
&nbsp;quintessentially Ankh-Morpork proverb, which was "Set a deep hole with
&nbsp;spring-loaded sides, tripwires, whirling knife blades driven by water power,
&nbsp;broken glass and scorpions, to catch a thief."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Guards! Guards!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 174 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;[...]  There was no difference at all between the richest man and the
&nbsp;poorest beggar, apart from the fact that the former had lots of money,
&nbsp;food, power, fine clothes, and good health.  But at least he wasn't
&nbsp;any /better/.  Just richer, fatter, more powerful, better dressed and
&nbsp;healthier.  It had been like that for hundreds of years.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Guards! Guards!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 205
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;"Might have been just an innocent bystander, sir," said Carrot.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What, in Ankh-Morpork?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes, sir."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"We should have grabbed him, then, just for the rarity value," said Vimes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Guards! Guards!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 262-263 (passage is a footnote; 'practise', 'practised' are accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;A number of religions in Ankh-Morpork still practised human sacrifice,
&nbsp;except that they really didn't need to practise any more because they had
&nbsp;got so good at it.  City law said that only condemned criminals should be
&nbsp;used, but that was all right because in most of the religions refusing to
&nbsp;volunteer for sacrifice was an offense punishable by death.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Guards! Guards!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 292
&nbsp;%passage 13
&nbsp;There were times when an ape had to do what a man had to do...
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The orangutan threw a complex salute and swung away into the darkness.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Guards! Guards!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 299-300 + 325 (final part comes quite a bit later; Carrot is trying to
&nbsp;#                    alert oblivious Sergeant Colon that the dragon is coming)
&nbsp;%passage 14
&nbsp;"This is what it comes to!" muttered Colon.  "Decent women can't walk down
&nbsp;the street without being eaten!  Right, you bastards, you're... you're
&nbsp;/geography/--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Sergeant!" Carrot repeated urgently.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It's history, not geography," said Nobby.  "That's what you're supposed to
&nbsp;say.  History.  'You're history!' you say."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, whatever," snapped Colon.  "Let's see now--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;[...(quite a while later)...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You heard the Man," he rasped.  "One false move and you're... you're--" he
&nbsp;took a desperate stab at it--"you're Home Economics!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Guards! Guards!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;# The original publication of /Eric/ featured extensive illustrations by
&nbsp;# Josh Kirby but the mass-market paperback edition contains none of them
&nbsp;# and omits his name.  In the Harper Torch edition, the list of other
&nbsp;# books by the same author has "Eric (with Josh Kirby)" even though the
&nbsp;# copyright and title pages of that very book do not mention him.
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Eric (9)
&nbsp;# pp. 3-4 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;No enemies had ever taken Ankh-Morpork.  Well, /technically/ they had,
&nbsp;quite often; the city welcomed free-spending barbarian invaders, but
&nbsp;somehow the puzzled raiders always found, after a few days, that they
&nbsp;didn't own their own horses anymore, and within a couple of months they
&nbsp;were just another minority group with its own graffiti and food shops.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Eric, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 195
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;"I can see blue sky!" said Eric.  "Where do you think we'll come out?" he
&nbsp;added.  "And when?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Anywhere," said Rincewind.  "Anytime."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He looked down at the broad steps they were climbing.  They were something
&nbsp;of a novelty; each one was built out of large stone letters.  The one he
&nbsp;was just stepping on to, for example, read: I Meant It For The Best.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The next one was: I Thought You'd Like It.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Eric was standing on: For The Sake Of The Children.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Weird, isn't it?' he said.  'Why do it like this?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'I think they're meant to be good intentions,' said Rincewind.  This was a
&nbsp;road to Hell, and demons were, after all, traditionalists.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Eric, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 9-10 (passage has an interesting start but not much of a finish...)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;"It's a haunting," he ventured.  "Some short of ghost, maybe.  A bell, book
&nbsp;and candle job."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The Bursar sighed.  "We tried that, Archchancellor."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The Archchancellor leaned toward him.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Eh?" he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I /said/, we tried that, Archchancellor," said the Bursar loudly,
&nbsp;directing his voice at the old man's ear.  "After dinner, you remember?
&nbsp;We used Humptemper's /Names of the Ants/ and rang Old Tom."(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Did we, indeed.  Worked, did it?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"/No/, Archchancellor."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Eh?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Old Tom was the single cracked bronze bell in the University bell
&nbsp;tower.  The clapper dropped out shortly after it was cast, but the bell
&nbsp;still tolled out some tremendously sonorous silences every hour.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Eric, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 14-15 (the top wizards have performed the Rite of AshkEnte)
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;Death pointedly picked invisible particles off the edge of his scythe.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The Archchancellor cupped a gnarled hand over his ear.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What'd he say?  Who's the fella with the stick?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It's Death, Archchancellor," said the Bursar patiently.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Eh?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It's Death, sir.  /You/ know."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Tell him we don't want any," said the old wizard, waving his stick.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The Bursar sighed.  "We summoned him, Archchancellor."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Is it?  What'd we go and do that for?  Bloody silly thing to do."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The Bursar gave Death an embarrassed grin.  He was on the point of asking
&nbsp;him to excuse the Archchancellor on account of age, but realized that this
&nbsp;would in the circumstances be a complete waste of breath.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Are we talking about the wizard Rincewind?  The one with the--" the Bursar
&nbsp;gave a shudder-- "horrible Luggage on legs?  But he got blown up when there
&nbsp;was all that business with the sourcerer, didn't he?"(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;INTO THE DUNGEON DIMENSIONS.  AND NOW HE IS TRYING TO GET BACK HOME.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) The Bursar was referring obliquely to the difficult occasion when the
&nbsp;University very nearly caused the end of the world, and would in fact have
&nbsp;done so had it not been for a chain of events involving Rincewind, a magic
&nbsp;carpet and a half-brick in a sock.  (See /Sourcery/.)  The whole affair
&nbsp;was very embarrassing to wizards, as it always is to people who find out
&nbsp;afterward that they were on the wrong side all along,(2) and it is
&nbsp;remarkable how many of the University's senior staff were now adamant that
&nbsp;at the time they had been off sick, visiting their aunt, or doing research
&nbsp;with the door locked while humming loudly and had had no idea of what was
&nbsp;going on outside.  There had been some desultory talk about putting up a
&nbsp;statue to Rincewind but, by the curious alchemy that tends to apply in
&nbsp;these sensitive issues, this quickly became a plaque, then a note on the
&nbsp;Role of Honor, and finally a motion of censure for being improperly dressed.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(2) ie, the one that lost.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Eric, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 34
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"Not that he was particularly successful.  It was all a bit trial and
&nbsp;wossname."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I thought you said great big scaly--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh, /yes/.  But that wasn't what he was after.  He was trying to conjure
&nbsp;up a succubus."  It should be impossible to leer when all you've got is a
&nbsp;beak, but the parrot managed it.  "That's a female demon what comes in the
&nbsp;night and makes mad passionate wossn--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I've heard of them," said Rincewind.  "Bloody dangerous things."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The parrot put its head on one side.  "It never worked.  All he ever got
&nbsp;was a neuralger."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What's that?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It's a demon that comes and has a headache at you."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Eric, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 35 (passage is a footnote)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;Demons and their Hell are quite different from the Dungeon Dimensions,
&nbsp;those endless parallel wastelands outside space and time.  The sad, mad
&nbsp;Things in the Dungeon Dimensions have no understanding of the world but
&nbsp;simply crave light and shape and try to warm themselves by the fires of
&nbsp;reality, clustering around it with about the same effect--if they ever
&nbsp;broke through--as an ocean trying to warm itself around a candle.  Whereas
&nbsp;demons belong to the same space-time wossname, more or less, as humans,
&nbsp;and have a deep and abiding interest in humanity's day-to-day affairs.
&nbsp;Interestingly enough, the gods of the Disc have never bothered much about
&nbsp;judging the souls of the dead, so people can only go to hell if that's
&nbsp;where they believe, in their deepest heart, that they deserve to go.
&nbsp;Which they won't do if they don't know about it.  This explains why it is
&nbsp;important to shoot missionaries on sight.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Eric, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 153
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;"Multiple exclamation marks," he went on, shaking his head, "are a sure
&nbsp;sign of a diseased mind."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Eric, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 178-179 (Ponce da Quirm, encountered in hell)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;"So you didn't find the Fountain of Youth, then," he said, feeling that he
&nbsp;should make some conversation.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh, but I did," said da Quirm earnestly.  "A clear spring, deep in the
&nbsp;jungle.  It was very impressive.  I had a good long drink, too.  Or draft,
&nbsp;which I think is the more appropriate word.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And--?" said Rincewind.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It definitely worked.  Yes.  For a while there I could definitely feel
&nbsp;myself getting younger.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"But--" Rincewind waved a vague hand to take in da Quirm, the treadmill,
&nbsp;the towering circles of the Pit.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ah," said the old man.  "Of course, that's the really annoying bit.  I'd
&nbsp;read so much about the Fountain, and you'd have thought someone in all
&nbsp;those books would have mentioned the really vital thing about the water,
&nbsp;wouldn't you?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Which was--?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"/Boil it first./  Says it all, doesn't it?  Terrible shame, really."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Eric, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 179
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;The Luggage trotted down the great spiral road that linked the circles of
&nbsp;the Pit.  Even if conditions had been normal it probably would not have
&nbsp;attracted much attention.  If anything, it was rather less astonishing
&nbsp;than most of the denizens.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Eric, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Moving Pictures (16)
&nbsp;# p. 7 (ROC Edition)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;This is space.  It's sometimes called the final frontier.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(Except that of course you can't have a /final/ frontier, because there'd
&nbsp;be nothing for it to be a frontier /to/, but as frontiers go, it's pretty
&nbsp;penultimate...)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 22-23 (very short but happens to span a page boundary...)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;By and large, the only skill the alchemists of Ankh-Morpork had discovered
&nbsp;so far was the ability to turn gold into less gold.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 44, 45, 46 (multiple paragraphs skipped in the first two gaps)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;He looked down.  There was a dog sitting by his feet.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It was small, bow-legged and wiry, and basically grey but with patches of
&nbsp;brown, white, and black in outlying areas, and it was staring.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It was certainly the most penetrating stare Victor had ever seen.  It
&nbsp;wasn't menacing, or fawning.  It was just very slow and very thorough, as
&nbsp;though the dog was memorising details so that it could give a full
&nbsp;description to the authorities later.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;[...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Victor let his gaze slide downwards.  There was nothing there but the little
&nbsp;dog, industriously scratching itself.  It looked up slowly, and said "Woof?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;[...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Victor poked an exploratory finger in his ear.  It must have  been a trick
&nbsp;of an echo, or something.  It wasn't that the dog had gone "woof!", although
&nbsp;that was practically unique in itself; most dogs in the universe /never/
&nbsp;went "woof!", they had complicated barks like "whuuugh!" and "hwhoouf!".
&nbsp;No, it was that it hadn't in fact /barked/ at all.  It had /said/ "woof".
&nbsp;
&nbsp;[...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;One of the last things Victor remembered was a voice beside his knee saying,
&nbsp;"Could have bin worse, mister.  I could have said 'miaow'."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 322
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;"'Twas beauty killed the beast," said the Dean, who liked to say things
&nbsp;like that.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"No it wasn't," said the Chair.  "It was it splatting into the ground like
&nbsp;that."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 12
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;There's a saying that all roads lead to Ankh-Morpork, greatest of Discworld
&nbsp;cities.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;At least, there's a /saying/ that there's a saying that all roads lead to
&nbsp;Ankh-Morpork.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And it's wrong.  All roads lead /away/ from Ankh-Morpork, but sometimes
&nbsp;people just walk along them the wrong way.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 34 (Victor Tugelbend and Ponder Stibbons are students at Unseen Uni.)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;"Rain's stopped.  Let's go over the wall," he said.  "We deserve a drink."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Victor waggled a finger.  "Just one drink, then.  Got to keep sober," he
&nbsp;said.  "It's Finals tomorrow.  Got to keep a clear head!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Huh!", said Ponder.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Of course, it's very important to be sober when you take an exam.  Many
&nbsp;worthwhile careers in the street-cleansing, fruit-picking and subway-guitar-
&nbsp;playing industries have been founded on a lack of understanding of this
&nbsp;simple fact.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 37
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;In a sense which his tutors couldn't quite define, much to their annoyance,
&nbsp;Victor Tugelbend was also the laziest person in the history of the world.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Not simply, ordinarily lazy.  Ordinary laziness was merely the absence of
&nbsp;effort.  Victor had passed through there a long time ago, had gone straight
&nbsp;through commonplace idleness and out on the far side.  He put more effort
&nbsp;into avoiding work than most people put into hard labour.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 60
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;Cut-me-own-Throat Dibbler was one of those rare people with the ability to
&nbsp;think in straight lines.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Most people think in curves and zig-zags.  For example, they start with a
&nbsp;thought like:  I wonder how I can become very rich, and then proceed along
&nbsp;an uncertain course which includes thoughts like:  I wonder what's for
&nbsp;supper, and:  I wonder who I know that can lend me five dollars?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Whereas Throat was one of those people who could identify the thought at the
&nbsp;other end of the process, in this case /I am now very rich/, draw a line
&nbsp;between the two, and then think his way along it, slowly and patiently,
&nbsp;until he got to the other end.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Not that it worked.  There was always, he found, some small but vital flaw
&nbsp;in the process.  It generally involved a strange reluctance on the part of
&nbsp;people to buy what he had to sell.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 71-72
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;"Tell me, Mr Dibbler." said Silverfish, "what exactly is your profession?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I sell merchandise," said Dibbler.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Mostly sausages," Victor volunteered.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"/And/ merchandise," said Dibbler, sharply.  "I only sell sausages when the
&nbsp;merchandising trade is a bit slow."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And the sale of sausages leads you to believe you can make better moving
&nbsp;pictures?" said Silverfish.  "Anyone can sell sausages!  Isn't that so,
&nbsp;Victor?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well..." said Victor, reluctantly.  No-one except Dibbler could possibly
&nbsp;sell Dibbler's sausages.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"There you are then," said Silverfish.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"The thing is," said Victor, "that Mr Dibbler can even sell sausages to
&nbsp;people who have bought them off him /before/."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That's right!" said Dibbler.  He beamed at Victor.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And a man who could sell Mr Dibbler's sausages twice could sell anything,"
&nbsp;said Victor.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 111-112 ('dis', 'ort', 'yore', 'finking', 'mayonnaisey', 'specialitay',
&nbsp;#              'de lar mayson' all accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;Borgle's commissary had decided to experiment with salads tonight.  The
&nbsp;nearest salad growing district was thirty slow miles away.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What dis?" demanded a troll, holding up something limp and brown.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Fruntkin the short-order chef hazarded a guess.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Celery?" he said.  He peered closer.  "Yeah, celery."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It /brown/."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"'S'right.  'S'right!  Ripe celery ort to be brown," said Fruntkin, quickly.
&nbsp;"Shows it's ripe," he added.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It should be /green/."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Nah.  Yore finking about the tomatoes," said Fruntkin.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yeah, and what's this runny stuff?" said a man in the queue.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Fruntkin drew himself up to his full height.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That," he said, "is the mayonnaisey.  Made it myself.  Out of a /book/, he
&nbsp;added proudly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yead, I expect you did," said the man, prodding it.  "Clearly oil, eggs
&nbsp;and vinegar were not involved, right?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Specialitay de lar mayson," said Fruntkin.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Right, right," said the man.  "Only it's attacking my lettuce."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Fruntkin grasped his ladle angrily.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Look--" he began.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"No, it's all right," said the prospective diner.  "The slugs have formed a
&nbsp;defensive ring."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 137 (CMOT Dibbler has become a director, Rock is a troll actor)
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;"Er, I was just wondering, Mr Dibbler... what is my motivation for this
&nbsp;scene?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Motivation?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes.  Er.  I got to know, see," said Rock.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"How about:  I'll fire you if you don't do it properly?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Rock grinned.  "Right you are, Mr Dibbler," he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 189
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;Magic wasn't difficult.  That was the big secret that the whole baroque
&nbsp;edifice or wizardry had been set up to conceal.  Anyone with a bit of
&nbsp;intelligence and enough perseverance could do magic, which was why the
&nbsp;wizards cloaked it with rituals and the whole pointy-hat business.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The trick was to do magic and /get away with it/.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Because it was as if the human race was a field of corn and magic helped
&nbsp;the users grow just that bit taller, so that they stood out.  That
&nbsp;attracted the attention of gods and--Victor hesitated--other Things outside
&nbsp;this world.  People who used magic without knowing what they were doing
&nbsp;usually came to a sticky end.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;All over the entire room, sometimes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 204 (passage ends mid-paragraph; musings are by Gaspode the dog)
&nbsp;%passage 13
&nbsp;Sunnink dreadful in there, he thought.  Prob'ly tentacled fings that rips
&nbsp;your face off.  I mean, when you finds mysterious doors in old hills, it
&nbsp;stands to reason wot comes out ain't going to be pleased to see you.  Evil
&nbsp;creatures wot Man shouldn't wot of, and here's one dog wot don't want to
&nbsp;wot of them either.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 206-207 (passage starts mid-paragraph; Dibbler now controls Silverfish's
&nbsp;#              moving pictures studio;  Detritus isn't part of the Watch yet)
&nbsp;%passage 14
&nbsp;"[...]  Detritus, throw this bum out!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Right you are, Mr Dibbler," rumbled the troll, gripping Silverfish's
&nbsp;collar.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You haven't heard the last of this, you--you scheming, devious
&nbsp;megalomaniac!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Dibbler removed his cigar.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That's /Mister/ Megalomanic to you," he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 274 (passage starts mid-sentence; senior wizards of the University are
&nbsp;#         attending a 'click' and have decided to take their hats off...)
&nbsp;%passage 15
&nbsp;[...] inside every old person is a young person wondering what happened.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 295 (passage starts mid-sentence; the movie theater owner's daughter
&nbsp;#         is playing a pipe organ to accompany the silent movie)
&nbsp;%passage 16
&nbsp;[...] whatever piece of music she was playing, it was definitely losing.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Reaper Man (15)
&nbsp;# pp. 301-302 (ROC edition)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;It was later that the story of Windle Poons really came to an end, if
&nbsp;"story" means all that he did and caused and set in motion.  In the Ramtop
&nbsp;villages where they dance the real Morris dance, for example, they believe
&nbsp;that no one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die
&nbsp;away--until the clock he wound up winds down, until the wine she made has
&nbsp;finished its ferment, until the crop they planted is harvested.  The span
&nbsp;of someone's life, they say, is only the core of their actual existence.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 251 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;Five exclamation marks, the sure sign of an insane mind.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 305 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong.  No matter
&nbsp;how fast light travels it finds the darkness has always got there first,
&nbsp;and is waiting for it.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 245
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;"That's not fair, you know.  If we knew when we were going to die, people
&nbsp;would lead better lives."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;IF PEOPLE KNEW WHEN THEY WERE GOING TO DIE, I THINK THEY PROBABLY WOULDN'T
&nbsp;LIVE AT ALL.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 19
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;YOU FEAR TO DIE?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It's not that I don't want... I mean, I've always... it's just that life
&nbsp;is a habit that's hard to break..."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 30-31
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;Wizards don't believe in gods in the same way that most people don't find it
&nbsp;necessary to believe in, say, tables.  They know they're there, they know
&nbsp;they're there for a purpose, they'd probably agree that they have a place in
&nbsp;a well-organized universe, but they wouldn't see the point of /believing/,
&nbsp;of going around saying, "O great table, without whom we are as naught".
&nbsp;Anyway, either the gods are there whether you believe or not, or exist only
&nbsp;as a function of the belief, so either way you might as well ignore the
&nbsp;whole business and, as it were, eat off your knees.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Nevertheless, there is a small chapel off the University's Great Hall,
&nbsp;because while the wizards stand right behind the philosophy as outlined
&nbsp;above, you don't become a successful wizard by getting up gods' noses even
&nbsp;if those noses only exist in an ethereal or metaphorical sense.  Because
&nbsp;while wizards don't believe in gods they know for a fact that /gods/ believe
&nbsp;in gods.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 50 (Dibbler is so low because he's on steps leading down to a cellar;
&nbsp;#        'favour' and 'pedlar' are the spelling used)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;"Sergeant!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Colon froze.  Then he looked down.  A face was staring up at him from ground
&nbsp;level.  When he'd got a grip on himself, he made out the sharp features of
&nbsp;his old friend Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler, the Discworld's walking, talking
&nbsp;argument in favour of the theory that mankind had descended from a species
&nbsp;of rodent.  C. M. O. T. Dibbler like to describe himself as a merchant
&nbsp;adventurer; everyone else liked to describe him as itinerant pedlar whose
&nbsp;moneymaking schemes were always let down by some small but vital flaw, such
&nbsp;as trying to sell things he didn't own or which didn't work or, sometimes,
&nbsp;didn't even exist.  Fairy gold is well known to evaporate by morning, but
&nbsp;it was a reinforced concrete slab by comparison to some of Dibbler's
&nbsp;merchandise.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 58-59
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;Over the fireplace was an ornamental candlestick, fixed to a bracket on the
&nbsp;wall.  It was such a familiar piece of furniture that Windle hadn't really
&nbsp;seen it for fifty years.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It was coming unscrewed.  It spun around slowly, squeaking once a turn.
&nbsp;After half a dozen turns it fell off and clattered to the floor.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Inexplicable phenomena were not in themselves unusual on the Discworld.(1)
&nbsp;It was just that they normally had more point, or at least were a bit more
&nbsp;interesting.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Rains of fish, for example, were so common in the little land-locked
&nbsp;village of Pine Dressers that it had a flourishing smoking, canning and
&nbsp;kipper filleting industry.  And in the mountain regions of Syrrit many
&nbsp;sheep, left out in the fields all night, would be found in the morning to
&nbsp;/be facing the other way/, without the apparent intervention of any human
&nbsp;agency.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 68-69 (130 year old wizard Windle Poon has become a zombie after dying)
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;"And now let's put the lid on and go and have some lunch," said Ridcully.
&nbsp;"Don't worry, Windle.  It's bound to work.  Today is the last day of the
&nbsp;rest of your life."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Windle lay in the darkness, listening to the hammering.  There was a thump
&nbsp;and a muffled imprecation against the Dean for not holding the end properly.
&nbsp;And then the patter of soil on the lid, getting fainter and more distant.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;After a while a distant rumbling suggested that the commerce of the city
&nbsp;was being resumed.  He could even hear muffled voices.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He banged on the coffin lid.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Can you keep it down?" he demanded.  "There's people down here trying to
&nbsp;be dead!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He heard the voices stop.  There was the sound of feet hurrying away.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 81-82 (things have stopped dying because Death is no longer on the job)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;Everything that exists, yearns to live.  That's what the cycle of life is
&nbsp;all about.  That's the engine that drives the great biological pumps of
&nbsp;evolution.  Everything tries to inch its way up the tree, clawing or
&nbsp;tentacling or sliming its way up to the next niche until it gets to the
&nbsp;very top--which, on the whole, never seems to have been worth all the
&nbsp;effort.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Everything that exists, yearns to live.  Even things that are not alive.
&nbsp;Things that have a kind of sub-life, a metaphorical life, an /almost/ life.
&nbsp;And now, in the same way that a sudden hot spell brings forth unnatural and
&nbsp;exotic blooms...
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 101
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;Dead.  That was the point.  All the religions had very strong views about
&nbsp;talking to the dead.  And so did Mrs Cake.  They held that it was sinful.
&nbsp;Mrs Cake held that it was only common courtesy.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;This usually led to a fierce ecclesiastical debate which resulted in Mrs
&nbsp;Cake giving the chief priest what she called "a piece of her mind".  There
&nbsp;were so many pieces of Mrs Cake's mind left around the city now that it
&nbsp;was quite surprising that there was enough left to power Mrs Cake but,
&nbsp;strangely enough, the more pieces of her mind she gave away the more there
&nbsp;seemed to be left.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 222
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;"No--" Ridcully began, and realised that it was hopeless.  And he was losing
&nbsp;the initiative.  He carefully formulated the most genteel battle cry in the
&nbsp;history of bowdlerism,
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Darn them to Heck!" he yelled, and ran after the Dean.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 226
&nbsp;%passage 13
&nbsp;Miss Flitworth disappeared into the scullery.  There was the creaking of a
&nbsp;pump.  She returned with a damp flannel and a glass of water.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;THERE'S A NEWT IN IT!
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Shows it's fresh," said Miss Flitworth,(1) fishing the amphibian out and
&nbsp;releasing it on the flagstones, where it scuttled away into a crack.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) People have believed for hundreds of years that newts in a well mean
&nbsp;that the water's fresh and drinkable, and /in all that time/ never asked
&nbsp;themselves whether the newts got out to go to the lavatory.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 247
&nbsp;%passage 14
&nbsp;"Have you got any last words?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;YES.  I DON'T WANT TO GO.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well.  Succinct, anyway."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 249-250
&nbsp;%passage 15
&nbsp;"Where's everyone gone, Librarian?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oook oook."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Just like them.  I'd have done that.  Rush off without thinking.  May the
&nbsp;gods bless them and help them, if they can find the time from their family
&nbsp;squabbles."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And then he thought:  well, what now?  I've thought, and what am I going to
&nbsp;do?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Rush off, or course,  But slowly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Witches Abroad (14)
&nbsp;# p. 92 (ROC edition)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;Vampires have risen from the dead, the grave and the crypt, but have never
&nbsp;managed it from the cat.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 12-13
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;Desiderata Hollow was making her will.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;When Desiderata Hollow was a girl, her grandmother had given her four
&nbsp;important pieces of advice to guide her young footsteps on the unexpectedly
&nbsp;twisting pathway of life.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;They were:
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Never trust a dog with orange eyebrows,
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Always get the young man's name and address,
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Never get between two mirrors,
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And always wear completely clean underwear every day because you never knew
&nbsp;when you were going to be knocked down and killed by a runaway horse and if
&nbsp;people found you had unsatisfactory underwear on, you'd die of shame.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And then Desiderata grew up to become a witch.  And one of the minor
&nbsp;benefits of being a witch is that you know exactly when you're going to die
&nbsp;and can wear what underwear you like.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;That had been eighty years earlier, when the idea of knowing exactly when
&nbsp;you were going to die had seemed quite attractive because secretly, of
&nbsp;course, you knew you were going to live forever.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;That was then.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And this was now.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Forever didn't seem to last as long these days as once it did.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Which explains a lot about witches.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 64 (passage ends mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;"You know," said Nanny, investigating the recesses of the basket, "whenever
&nbsp;I deals with dwarfs, the phrase 'Duck's arse' swims across my mind."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Mean little devils.  You should see the prices they tries to charge me
&nbsp;when I takes my broom to be repaired," said Granny.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes, but you never pay," said Magrat.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That's not the point," said Granny Weatherwax.  "They shouldn't be allowed
&nbsp;to charge that sort of money.  That's thievin', that is."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I don't see how it can be thieving if you don't pay anyway," said Magrat.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I never pay for anything," said Granny.  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 93 (passage is a footnote)
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;Nanny Ogg sent a number of cards home to her family, not a single one of
&nbsp;which got back before she did.  This is traditional, and happens everywhere
&nbsp;in the universe.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 118-119 (Magrat has been teaching herself martial arts via books)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"Lobsang Dibbler says sometimes you have to lose in order to win," said
&nbsp;Magrat.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Sounds daft to me," said Nanny.  "That's Yen Buddhism, is it?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"No.  They're the ones who say you have to have lots of money to win," said
&nbsp;Magrat.(1)  "In the Path of the Scorpion, the way to win is to lose every
&nbsp;fight except the last one.  You use the enemy's strength against himself."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What, you get him to hit himself, sort of thing?" said Nanny.  "Sounds
&nbsp;daft."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) The Yen Buddhists are the richest religious sect in the universe.  They
&nbsp;hold that the accumulation of money is a great evil and burden to the soul.
&nbsp;They therefore, regardless of personal hazard, see it as their unpleasant
&nbsp;duty to acquire as much as possible to reduce the risk to innocent people.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 131
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;They had breakfast in a forest clearing.  It was grilled pumpkin.  The dwarf
&nbsp;bread was brought out for inspection.  But it was miraculous, the dwarf
&nbsp;bread.  No one ever went hungry when they had some dwarf bread to avoid.
&nbsp;You only had to look at it for a moment, and instantly you could think of
&nbsp;dozens of things you'd rather eat.  Your boots for example.  Mountains.  Raw
&nbsp;sheep.  Your own foot.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 194-195 ("he just" is accurate; cockerel == adolescent rooster)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;"This is Legba, a dark and dangerous spirit," said Mrs. Gogol.  She leaned
&nbsp;closer and spoke out of the corner of her mouth.  "Between you and me, he
&nbsp;just a big black cockerel.  But you know how it is."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It pays to advertise," Nanny agreed.  "This is Greebo.  Between you and me,
&nbsp;he's a fiend from hell."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, he's a cat," said Mrs. Gogol, generously.  "It's only to be expected."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 218
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;"/And/ still a bit of the wedding cake," said the first coachman.  "Ain't
&nbsp;you et that up yet?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"We have it every night," said the undercoachman.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The shed shook with the ensuing laughter.  It is a universal fact that any
&nbsp;innocent comment made by any recently married young member of any workforce
&nbsp;is an instant trigger for coarse merriment among his or her older and more
&nbsp;cynical colleagues.  This happens even if everyone concerned has nine legs
&nbsp;and lives at the bottom of an ocean of ammonia on a huge cold planet.  It's
&nbsp;just one of those things.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 228
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;"You ought to be more adventurous, Granny," said Magrat.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I ain't against adventure, in moderation," said Granny, "but not when I'm
&nbsp;eatin'."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 263-264 (Nanny is trying to stop an elaborate clock; despite damage
&nbsp;#              inflicted on it, it goes on to announce midnight [early])
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;Let's see thought Nanny.  This bit is connected to that bit, this one turns,
&nbsp;that one turns /faster/, this spiky bit wobbles backwards and forwards...
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Oh, well.  Just twist the first thing you can grab, as the High Priest said
&nbsp;to the vestal virgin.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Nanny Ogg spat on her hands, gripped the largest cog-wheel, and twisted.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It carried on turning, pulling her with it.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Blimey.  Oh, well...
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Then she did was neither Granny Weatherwax nor Magrat would have dreamed of
&nbsp;doing in the circumstances.  But Nanny Ogg's voyages on the sea of
&nbsp;intersexual dalliance had gone rather further than twice around the
&nbsp;lighthouse, and she saw nothing demeaning in getting a man to help her.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;She simpered at Casanunda.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Things would be a lot more comfortable in our little /pie-de-terre/ if you
&nbsp;could just push this little wheel around a bit," she said.  "I'm sure /you/
&nbsp;could manage it," she added.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh, no problem, good lady," said Casanunda.  He reached up with one hand.
&nbsp;Dwarfs are immensely strong for their size.  The wheel seemed to offer him
&nbsp;no resistance at all.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Somewhere in the mechanism something resisted for a moment and then went
&nbsp;/clonk/.  Big wheels turned reluctantly.  Little wheels screamed on their
&nbsp;axles.  A small important piece flew out and pinged off of Casanunda's
&nbsp;small bullet head.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And, much faster than nature had ever intended, the hands sped around the
&nbsp;face.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) This is the last line to a Discworld joke lost, alas, to posterity.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 265 ('pate' has a couple of accent marks which can't be rendered in ascii)
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;There are various forms of voodoo in the multiverse, because it's a
&nbsp;religion that can be put together from any ingredients that happen to be
&nbsp;lying around.  And all of them try, in some way, to call a god into the body
&nbsp;of a human being.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;That was stupid, Mrs. Gogol thought.  That was dangerous.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Mrs. Gogol's voodoo worked the other way about.  What was a god?  A focus of
&nbsp;belief.  If people believed, a god began to grow.  Feebly at first, but if
&nbsp;the swamp taught anything, it taught patience.  Anything could be the focus
&nbsp;of a god.  A handful of feathers with a red ribbon around them, a hat and
&nbsp;coat on a couple of sticks... anything.  Because when all people had was
&nbsp;practically nothing, then anything could be almost everything.  And then you
&nbsp;fed it, and lulled it, like a goose heading for pate, and let the power grow
&nbsp;very slowly, and when the time was ripe you opened the path... backwards.
&nbsp;A human could ride the god, rather than the other way around.  There would
&nbsp;be a price to pay later, but there always was.  In Mrs. Gogol's experience,
&nbsp;everyone ended up dying.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 270 (Greebo has been temporarily transformed--polymorphed?--into a human)
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;Greebo wasn't a happy cat.  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Then he'd smelled the kitchen.  Cats gravitate to kitchens like rocks
&nbsp;gravitate to gravity.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 282 (Casanunda the dwarf is Discworld's Casanova; he appears again in
&nbsp;#         /Lords and Ladies/)
&nbsp;%passage 13
&nbsp;"How come you're in the palace guard, Casanunda?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Soldier of fortune takes whatever jobs are going, Mrs. Ogg," said Casanunda
&nbsp;earnestly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"But all the rest of 'em are six foot tall and you're--of the shorter
&nbsp;persuasion."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I lied about my height, Mrs. Ogg.  I'm a world-famous liar."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Is that true?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"No."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What about you being the world's greatest lover?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There was silence for a while.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, maybe I'm only No. 2," said Casanunda.  "But I try harder."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 285-286 (Greebo is still in human form; 'rationalise' is accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 14
&nbsp;Greebo leapt.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Cats are like witches.  They don't fight to kill, but to win.  There is a
&nbsp;difference.  There's no point in killing an opponent.  That way, they won't
&nbsp;know they've lost, and to be a real winner you have to have an opponent who
&nbsp;is beaten and knows it.  There's no triumph over a corpse, but a beaten
&nbsp;opponent, who will remain beaten every day for the remainder of their sad
&nbsp;and wretched life, is something to treasure.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Cats do not, of course, rationalise this far.  They just like to send
&nbsp;someone limping off minus a tail and a few square inches of fur.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Greebo's technique was unscientific and wouldn't have stood a chance against
&nbsp;any decent swordsmanship, but on his side was the fact that it is almost
&nbsp;impossible to develop decent swordsmanship when you seem to have run into a
&nbsp;food mixer that is biting your ear off.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The witches watched with interest.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I think we can leave him now," said Nanny.  "I think he's having fun."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Small Gods (12)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;He says gods like to see an atheist around.  Gives them something to aim at.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;Pets are always a great help in times of stress.  And in times of starvation
&nbsp;too, o'course.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 3 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;So history has its caretakers.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;They live ... well, in the nature of things they live wherever they are
&nbsp;sent, but their /spiritual/ home is in a hidden valley in the high Ramtops
&nbsp;of the Discworld, where the books of history are kept.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;These aren't books in which the events of the past are pinned like so many
&nbsp;butterflies to a cork.  These are the books from which history is derived.
&nbsp;There are more than twenty thousand of them, each one is ten feet high,
&nbsp;bound in lead, and the letters are so small that they have to be read with
&nbsp;a magnifying glass.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;When people say "It is written ..." it is written /here/.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There are fewer metaphors than people think.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Every month the abbot and two senior monks go into the cave where the
&nbsp;books are kept.  It used to be the duty of the abbot alone, but two other
&nbsp;reliable monks were included after the unfortunate case of the 59th Abbot,
&nbsp;who made a million dollars in small bets before his fellow monks caught up
&nbsp;with him.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Besides, it's dangerous to go in alone.  The sheer concentratedness of
&nbsp;History, sleeting past soundlessly out into the world, can be overwhelming.
&nbsp;Time is a drug.  Too much of it kills you.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 4-5
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;It was the Year of the Notional Serpent, or two hundred years after the
&nbsp;Declaration of the Prophet Abbys.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Which meant that the time of the 8th Prophet was imminent.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;That was the reliable thing about the Church of the Great God Om.  It had
&nbsp;very punctual prophets.  You could set your calendar by them, if you had
&nbsp;one big enough.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And, as is generally the case around the time a prophet is expected, the
&nbsp;Church redoubled its efforts to be holy.  This was very much like the
&nbsp;bustle you get in any large concern when the auditors are expected, but
&nbsp;tended towards taking people suspected of being less holy and putting them
&nbsp;to death in a hundred ingenious ways.  This is considered a reliable
&nbsp;barometer of the state of one's piety in most of the really popular
&nbsp;religions.  There's a tendency to declare that there is more backsliding
&nbsp;around than in the national toboggan championships, that heresy must be
&nbsp;torn out root and branch, and even arm and leg and eye and tongue, and
&nbsp;that it's time to wipe the slate clean.  Blood is generally considered
&nbsp;very efficient for this purpose.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 60 ("he" is a tortoise, unnoticed among a large crowd of people)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;He walked off slowly, keeping close to the wall to avoid the feet.  He had
&nbsp;no alternative to walking slowly in any case, but now he was walking slowly
&nbsp;because he was thinking.  Most gods find it hard to walk and think at the
&nbsp;same time.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 60 (same page as preceding passage)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;There were all sorts of ways to petition the Great God, but they depended
&nbsp;largely on how much you could afford, which was right and proper and
&nbsp;exactly how things should be.  After all, those who had achieved success
&nbsp;in the world clearly had done it with the approval of the Great God,
&nbsp;because it was impossible to believe that they had managed it with His
&nbsp;/disapproval/.  In the same way, the Quisition could act without
&nbsp;possibility of flaw.  Suspicion was proof.  How could it be anything else?
&nbsp;The Great God would not have seen fit to put the suspicion in the minds
&nbsp;of His exquisitors unless it was /right/ that it should be there.  Life
&nbsp;could be very simple, if you believed in the Great God Om.  And sometimes
&nbsp;quite short, too.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 92 ([sic] first paragraph ought to have fourth '.' to end sentence)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;The memory stole over him:  a desert is what you think it is.  And now,
&nbsp;you can think clearly ...
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There were no lies here.  All fancies fled away.  That's what happened in
&nbsp;all deserts.  It was just you, and what you believed.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;What have I always believed?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;That on the whole, and by and large, if a man lived properly, not
&nbsp;according to what any priests said, but according to what seemed decent
&nbsp;and honest /inside/, then it would, in the end, more or less, turn out
&nbsp;all right.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;You couldn't get that on a banner.  But the desert looked better already.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 114
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;Vorbis had a cabin somewhere near the bilges, where the air was as thick
&nbsp;as thin soup.  Brutha knocked.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Enter."(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Words are the litmus paper of the mind.  If you find yourself in the
&nbsp;power of someone who will use the word "commence" in cold blood, go
&nbsp;somewhere else very quickly.  But if they say "Enter," don't stop to pack.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 141 (at the end, Xeno is almost certainly agreeing with Ibid, but
&nbsp;#         he /might/ be answering Brutha's last question)
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;"Are you all philosophers?" said Brutha.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The one called Xeno stepped forward, adjusting the hang of his toga.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That's right," he said.  "We're philosophers.  We think, therefore we am."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Are," said the luckless paradox manufacturer automatically.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Xeno spun around.  "I've just about had it up to /here/ with you, Ibid!" he
&nbsp;roared.  He turned back to Brutha.  "We /are/, therefore we am," he said
&nbsp;confidently.  "That's it."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Several of the philosophers looked at one another with interest.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That's actually quite interesting," one said.  "The evidence of our
&nbsp;existence is the /fact/ of our existence, is that what you're saying?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Shut up," said Xeno, without looking around.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Have you been fighting?" said Brutha.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The assembled philosophers assumed various expressions of shock and horror.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Fighting?  Us?  We're /philosophers/," said Ibid, shocked.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"My word, yes," said Xeno.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 151
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;All over the world there were rulers with titles like the Exalted, the
&nbsp;Supreme, and Lord High Something or Other.  Only in one small country was
&nbsp;the ruler elected by the people, who could remove him whenever they
&nbsp;wanted--and they called him the Tyrant.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The Ephebians believed that every man should have the vote.(1)  Every five
&nbsp;years someone was elected to be Tyrant, provided he could prove that he
&nbsp;was honest, intelligent, sensible, and trustworthy.  Immediately after he
&nbsp;was elected, of course, it was obvious to everyone that he was a criminal
&nbsp;madman and totally out of touch with the view of the ordinary philosopher
&nbsp;in the street looking for a towel.  And then five years later they elected
&nbsp;another one just like him, and really it was amazing how intelligent
&nbsp;people kept on making the same mistakes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Provided that he wasn't poor, foreign, nor disqualified by reason of
&nbsp;being mad, frivolous, or a woman.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 239
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;"I still don't see how one god can be a hundred different thunder gods.
&nbsp;They all look different ..."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"False noses."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And different voices.  I happen to know Io's got seventy different hammers.
&nbsp;Not common knowledge, that.  And it's just the same with mother goddesses.
&nbsp;There's only one of 'em.  She just got a lot of wigs and of course it's
&nbsp;amazing what you can do with a padded bra."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 265
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;An hour later the lion, who was limping after Brutha, also arrived at the
&nbsp;grave.  It had lived in the desert for sixteen years, and the reason it had
&nbsp;lived so long was that it had not died, and it had not died because it
&nbsp;never wasted handy protein.  It dug.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Humans have always wasted handy protein ever since they started wondering
&nbsp;who had lived in it.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;But, on the whole, there are worse places to be buried than inside a lion.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Lords and Ladies (12)
&nbsp;# p. 122 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;Elves are wonderful.  They provoke wonder.
&nbsp;Elves are marvellous.  They cause marvels.
&nbsp;Elves are fantastic.  They create fantasies.
&nbsp;Elves are glamorous.  They project glamour.
&nbsp;Elves are enchanting.  They weave enchantment.
&nbsp;Elves are terrific.  They beget terror.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The thing about words is that meanings can twist just like a snake,
&nbsp;and if you want to find snakes look for them behind words that have
&nbsp;changed their meaning.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;No one ever said elves are nice.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Elves are bad.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 32
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;"Hope she does all right as queen," said Nanny.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"We taught her everything she knows," said Granny Weatherwax.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yeah," said Nanny Ogg, as they disappeared into the bracken.  "D'you
&nbsp;think... maybe... ?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"D'you think maybe we ought to have taught her everything /we/ know?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 36
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;It was very hard, being a reader in Invisible Writings.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) The study of invisible writings was a new discipline made available by
&nbsp;the discovery of the bi-directional nature of Library-Space.  The thaumic
&nbsp;mathematics are complex, but boil down to the fact that all books,
&nbsp;everywhere, affect all other books.  This is obvious:  books inspire
&nbsp;other books written in the future, and cite books written in the past.
&nbsp;But the General Theory(2) of L-Space suggests that, in that case, the
&nbsp;contents of books /as yet unwritten/ can be deduced from books now in
&nbsp;existence.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(2) There's a Special Theory as well, but no one bothers with it much
&nbsp;because it's self-evidently a load of marsh gas.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 51
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;"Don't hold with schools," said Granny Weatherwax.  "They get in the way
&nbsp;of education.  All them books.  Books?  What good are they?  There's too
&nbsp;much reading these days.  We never had time to read when we was young, I
&nbsp;know that."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 79-80
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;The highwayman stepped over the groaning body of the driver and marched
&nbsp;toward the door of the coach, dragging his stepladder behind him.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He opened the door.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Your money or, I'm sorry to say, your--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;A blast of octarine fire blew his hat off.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The dwarf's expression did not change.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I wonder if I might be allowed to rephrase my demands?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Ridcully looked the elegantly dressed stranger up and down, or rather
&nbsp;down and further down.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You don't look like a dwarf," he said, "apart from the height, that is."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Don't look like a dwarf apart from the height?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;I mean, the helmet and iron boots department is among those you are lacking
&nbsp;in," said Ridcully.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 95
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;What is magic?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There is the wizards' explanation, which comes in two forms, depending on
&nbsp;the age of the wizard.  Older wizards talk about candles, circles, planets,
&nbsp;stars, bananas, chants, runes, and the importance of having at least four
&nbsp;good meals every day.  Younger wizards, particularly the pale ones who
&nbsp;spend most of their time in the High Energy Magic building,(1) chatter at
&nbsp;length about fluxes in the morphic nature of the universe, the essentially
&nbsp;impermanent quality of even the most apparently rigid time-space framework,
&nbsp;the impossibility of reality, and so on:  what this means is that they have
&nbsp;got hold of something hot and are gabbling the physics as they go along.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) It was here that the thaum, hitherto believed to be the smallest
&nbsp;possible particle of magic, was successfully demonstrated to made up of
&nbsp;/resons/(2) or reality fragments.  Currently research indicates that each
&nbsp;reson is itself made up of a combination of at least five "flavors,"
&nbsp;known as "up," "down," "sideways," "sex appeal," and "peppermint."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(2) Lit: "Thing-ies."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 107
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;What is magic?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Then there is the witches' explanation, which comes in two forms, depending
&nbsp;on the age of the witch.  Older witches hardly put words to it at all, but
&nbsp;may suspect in their hearts that the universe really doesn't know what the
&nbsp;hell is going on and consists of a zillion trillion billion possibilities,
&nbsp;and could become any of them if a trained mind rigid with quantum certainty
&nbsp;was inserted in the crack and /twisted/; that, if you really had to make
&nbsp;someone's hat explode, all you needed to do was /twist/ into the universe
&nbsp;where a large number of hat molecules all decide at the same time to bounce
&nbsp;off in different directions.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Younger witches, on the other hand, talk about it all the time and believe
&nbsp;it involves crystals, mystic forces, and dancing about without yer drawers
&nbsp;on.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Everyone may to right, all at the same time.  That's the thing about
&nbsp;quantum.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 114; 'colorful' &amp; 'humor' are spelled the American way, 'or' not 'our'
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;He knocked on the coach door.  The window slid down.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I wouldn't like you to think of this as a robbery," he said.  "I'd like
&nbsp;you to think of it more as a colorful anecdote you might enjoy telling your
&nbsp;grandchildren about."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;A voice from within said, "That's him!  He stole my horse!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;A wizard's staff poked out.  The chieftain saw the knob on the end.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Now then," he said pleasantly.  "I know the rules.  Wizards aren't allowed
&nbsp;to use magic against civilians except in genuine life-threatening situa--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There was a burst of octarine light.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Actually, it's not a rule," said Ridcully.  "It's more a guideline."  He
&nbsp;turned to Ponder Stibbons.  "Interestin' use of Stacklady's Morphic
&nbsp;Resonator here, I hoped you noticed."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Ponder looked down.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The chieftain had been turned into a pumpkin, although, in accordance with
&nbsp;the rules of universal humor, he still had his hat on.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 149 (second half of a paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;Things had to balance.  You couldn't set out to be a good witch or a bad
&nbsp;witch.  It never worked for long.  All you could try to be was a /witch/,
&nbsp;as hard as you could.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 162 (mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;"I'm the head wizard now.  I've only got to give an order and a thousand
&nbsp;wizards will... uh... disobey, come to think of it, or say 'What?', or
&nbsp;start to argue.  But they have to take notice.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I've been to that University a few times," said Granny.  "A bunch of fat
&nbsp;old men in beards."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That's right!  That's /them/!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 190
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;The window was no escape this time.  There was the bed to hide under, and
&nbsp;that'd work for all of two seconds, wouldn't it?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Her eye was drawn by some kind of horrible magic back to the room's
&nbsp;garderobe, lurking behind its curtain.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Magrat lifted the lid.  The shaft was definitely wide enough to admit a
&nbsp;body.  Garderobes were notorious in that respect.  Several unpopular kings
&nbsp;met their end, as it were, in the garderobe, at the hands of an assassin
&nbsp;with good climbing ability, a spear, and a fundamental approach to politics.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 191 ('a' historian, not 'an'; 'Ynci' is correct)
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;Some shape, some trick of moonlight, some expression on a painted face
&nbsp;somehow cut through her terror and caught her eye.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;That was a portrait she'd never seen before.  She'd never walked down this
&nbsp;far.  The idiot vapidity of the assembled queens had depressed her.  But
&nbsp;this one...
&nbsp;
&nbsp;This one, somehow, reached out to her.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;She stopped.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It couldn't have been done from life.  In the days of /this/ queen, the
&nbsp;only paint known locally was a sort of blue, and generally used on the body.
&nbsp;But a few generations ago King Lully I had been a bit of a historian and a
&nbsp;romantic.  He'd researched what was known of the early days of Lancre, and
&nbsp;where actual evidence had been a bit sparse he had, in the best traditions
&nbsp;of the keen ethnic historian, inferred from revealed self-evident wisdom(1)
&nbsp;and extrapolated from associated sources(2).  He'd commissioned the
&nbsp;portrait of Queen Ynci the Short-Tempered, one of the founders of the
&nbsp;kingdom.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Made it up.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(2) Had read a lot of stuff that other people had made up, too.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Men at Arms (14)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;The maze was so small that people got lost looking for it.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 6-7 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;Ankh-Morpork had a king again.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And this was /right/.  And it was /fate/ that let Edward recognize this
&nbsp;/just/ when he'd got his Plan.  And it was /right/ that it was /Fate/,
&nbsp;and the city would be /Saved/ from its ignoble present by its /glorius/
&nbsp;past.  He had the /Means/, and he had the /end/.  And so on ...
&nbsp;Edward's thoughts often ran like this.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He could think in /italics/.  Such people need watching.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Preferably from a safe distance.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 76-77
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;There were such things as dwarf gods.  Dwarfs were not a naturally
&nbsp;religious species, but in a world where pit props could crack without
&nbsp;warning and pockets of fire damp could suddenly explode they'd seen the
&nbsp;need for gods as the sort of supernatural equivalent of a hard hat.
&nbsp;Besides, when you hit your thumb with an eight-pound hammer it's nice
&nbsp;to be able to blaspheme.  It takes a very special and strong-minded
&nbsp;kind of atheist to jump up and down with their hand clasped under their
&nbsp;other armpit and shout, "Oh, random fluctuations-in-the-space-time-
&nbsp;continuum!" or "Aaargh, primitive-and-outmoded-concept on a crutch!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 119 (perhaps a bit subtle; it would be clearer if 'they' was italicized)
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;"It's an ancient tradition," said Carrot.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I thought dwarfs didn't believe in devils and demons and stuff like
&nbsp;that."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That's true, but ... we're not sure if they know."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 168-169 (treacle == molasses)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"I'd like a couple of eggs," said Vimes, "with the yolks real hard but
&nbsp;the whites so runny that they drip like treacle.  And I want bacon, that
&nbsp;special bacon all covered with bony nodules and dangling bits of fat.
&nbsp;And a slice of fried bread.  The kind that makes your arteries go clang
&nbsp;just by looking at it."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Tough order," said Harga.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You managed it yesterday.  And give me some more coffee.  Black as
&nbsp;midnight on a moonless night."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Harga looked surprised.  That wasn't like Vimes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"How black's that, then?" he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh pretty damn black, I should think."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Not necessarily."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You get more stars on a moonless night.  Stands to reason.  They show up
&nbsp;more.  It can be quite bright on a moonless night."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Vimes sighed.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"An /overcast/ moonless night?" he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Harga looked carefully at his coffee pot.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Cumulous or cirro-nimbus?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I'm sorry.  What did you say?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You gets city lights reflected off cumulous, because it's low lying, see.
&nbsp;Mind you, you can get high-altitude scatter off the ice crystals in--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"A moonless night," said Vimes, in a hollow voice, "that is as black as
&nbsp;that coffee."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Right!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And a doughnut."  Vimes grabbed Harga's stained vest and pulled him
&nbsp;until they were nose to nose.  "A doughnut as doughnutty as a doughnut
&nbsp;made of flour, water, one large egg, sugar, a pinch of yeast, cinnamon
&nbsp;to taste and a jam, jelly, or rat filling depending on national or
&nbsp;species preference, OK?  Not as doughnutty as something in any way
&nbsp;metaphorical.  Just a doughnut.  One doughnut."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"A doughnut."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You only had to say."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Harga brushed off his vest, gave Vimes a hurt look, and went back into
&nbsp;the kitchen.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 174 (clumsy wording; 'they' in 2nd sentence != 'they' in 1st sentence)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;Why had they chased someone halfway across the city?  Because they'd
&nbsp;run away.  /No one/ ran away from the Watch.  Thieves just flashed their
&nbsp;licenses.  Unlicensed thieves had nothing to fear from the Watch, since
&nbsp;they'd saved up all their fear for the Thieves' Guild.  Assassins always
&nbsp;obeyed the letter of the law.  And honest men didn't run away from the
&nbsp;Watch.(1)  Running away from the Watch was downright suspicious.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) The axiom "Honest men have nothing to fear from the police" is
&nbsp;currently under review by the Axioms Appeal Board.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 176-177 ("this [sic; no 'is'] the pork futures warehouse")
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;"Oh, my," said Detritus.  "I think this the pork futures warehouse in
&nbsp;Morpork Road."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Used to work here," said the troll.  "Used to work everywhere.  Go away,
&nbsp;you stupid troll, you too thick," he added, gloomily.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Is there any way out?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"The main door is in Morpork Street.  But no one comes in here for months.
&nbsp;Till pork exists."(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Cuddy shivered.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Probably no other world in the multiverse has warehouses for things
&nbsp;which only exist /in potentia/, but the pork futures warehouse in Ankh-
&nbsp;Morpork is a product of the Patrician's rules about baseless metaphors,
&nbsp;the literal-mindedness of citizens who assume that everything must
&nbsp;exist somewhere, and the general thinness of the fabric of reality
&nbsp;around Ankh, which is so thin that it's as thin as a very thin thing.
&nbsp;The net result is that trading in pork futures--in pork /that doesn't
&nbsp;exist yet/--led to the building of the warehouse to store it until it
&nbsp;does.  The extremely low temperatures are caused by the imbalance in
&nbsp;the temporal energy flow.  At least, that's what the wizards in the
&nbsp;High Energy Magic building say.  And they've got proper pointy hats and
&nbsp;letters after their name, so they know what they're talking about.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 212
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;Black mud, more or less dry, made a path at the bottom of the tunnel.
&nbsp;There was slime on the walls, too, indicating that at some point in the
&nbsp;recent past the tunnel had been full of water.  Here and there huge
&nbsp;patches of fungi, luminous with decay, cast a faint glow over the
&nbsp;ancient stonework.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) It didn't need to.  Cuddy, belonging to a race that worked underground
&nbsp;for preference, and Detritus, a member of a race notoriously nocturnal,
&nbsp;had excellent vision in the dark.  But mysterious caves and tunnels
&nbsp;always have luminous fungi, strangely bright crystals or at a pinch
&nbsp;merely an eldritch glow in the air, just in case a human hero comes in
&nbsp;and needs to see in the dark.  Strange but true.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 218
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;"He's bound to have done /something/," Noddy repeated.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;In this he was echoing the Patrician's view of crime and punishment.  If
&nbsp;there was a crime, there should be punishment.  If the specific criminal
&nbsp;should be involved in the punishment process then this was a happy
&nbsp;accident, but if not then any criminal would do, and since everyone was
&nbsp;undoubtedly guilty of something, the net result was that, /in general
&nbsp;terms/, justice was done.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 226
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;The librarian considered matters for a while.  So ... a dwarf and a troll.
&nbsp;He preferred both species to humans.  For one thing, neither of them were
&nbsp;great readers.  The Librarian was, of course, very much in favor of
&nbsp;reading in general, but readers in particular got on his nerves.  There
&nbsp;was something, well, /sacrilegious/ about the way they kept taking books
&nbsp;off the shelves and wearing out the words by reading them.  He liked
&nbsp;people who loved and respected books, and the best way to do that, in
&nbsp;the Librarian's opinion, was to leave them on the shelves where Nature
&nbsp;intended them to be.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 253
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;Sometimes it's better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 265 (fyi, they're decorated chicken eggs)
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;"All those little heads ... "
&nbsp;
&nbsp;They stretched away in the candlelight, shelf on shelf of them, tiny
&nbsp;little clown faces--as if a tribe of headhunters had suddenly developed
&nbsp;a sophisticated sense of humor and a desire to make the world a better
&nbsp;place.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 300-301
&nbsp;%passage 13
&nbsp;"You know what I mean!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Can't say I do.  Can't say I do.  Clothing has never been what you might
&nbsp;call a thingy of dog wossname."  Gaspode scratched his ear.  "Two meta-
&nbsp;syntactic variables there.  Sorry."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 320
&nbsp;%passage 14
&nbsp;"Hahaha, a nice day for it!" leered the Bursar.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh dear," said Ridcully, "he's off again.  Can't understand the man.
&nbsp;Anyone got the dried frog pills?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It was a complete mystery to Mustrum Ridcully, a man designed by nature to
&nbsp;live outdoors and happily slaughter anything that coughed in the bushes,
&nbsp;why the Bursar (a man designed by Nature to sit in a small room somewhere,
&nbsp;adding up figures) was so nervous.  He'd tried all sorts of things to, as
&nbsp;he put it, buck him up.  These included practical jokes, surprise early
&nbsp;morning runs, and leaping out at him from behind doors while wearing
&nbsp;Willie the Vampire masks in order, he said, to take him out of himself.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Soul Music (11)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;But this didn't feel like magic.  It felt a lot older than that.  It felt
&nbsp;like music.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Soul Music, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;"Yes," said the skull.  "Quit while you're a head, that's what I say."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Soul Music, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p.2 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;But if it is true that the act of observing changes the thing which is
&nbsp;observed,(1) it's even more true that it changes the observer.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Because of Quantum.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Soul Music, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p.8
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;It is said that whomsoever the gods wish to destroy, they first make mad.
&nbsp;In fact, whomsoever the gods wish to destroy, they first hand the
&nbsp;equivalent of a stick with a fizzing fuse and Acme Dynamite Company
&nbsp;written on the side.  It's more interesting, and doesn't take so long.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Soul Music, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 63-64
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;Then the skull said:  "Kids today, eh?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I blame education," said the raven.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"A lot of knowledge is a dangerous thing," said the skull.  "A lot more
&nbsp;dangerous than just a little.  I always used to say that, when I was
&nbsp;alive."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"When was that, exactly?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Can't remember.  I think I was pretty knowledgeable.  Probably a teacher
&nbsp;or philosopher, something of that kidney.  And now I'm on a bench with a
&nbsp;bird crapping on my head."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Very allegorical," said the raven.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Soul Music, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 87 (Stabbing: "in the" both capitalized; "and" not so)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;The Mended Drum had traditionally gone in for, well, traditional pub games,
&nbsp;such as dominoes, darts, and Stabbing People In The Back and Taking All
&nbsp;Their Money.  The new owner had decided to go up-market.  This was the
&nbsp;only available direction.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Soul Music, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 125-126 ("him"==Librarian;
&nbsp;#              Leonard of Quirm==Discworld analog of Leonardo da Vinci)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;The Library didn't only contain magical books, the ones which are chained
&nbsp;to their shelves and are very dangerous.  It also contained perfectly
&nbsp;ordinary books, printed on commonplace paper in mundane ink.  It would be
&nbsp;a mistake to think that they weren't also dangerous, just because reading
&nbsp;them didn't make fireworks go off in the sky.  Reading them sometimes did
&nbsp;the more dangerous trick of making fireworks go off in the privacy of the
&nbsp;reader's brain.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;For example, the big volume open in front of him contained some of the
&nbsp;collected drawings of Leonard of Quirm, skilled artist and certified
&nbsp;genious, with a mind that wandered so much it came back with souvenirs.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Leonard's books were full of sketches--of kittens, of the way water flows,
&nbsp;of the wives of influential Ankh-Morporkian merchants whose portraits had
&nbsp;provided his means of making a living.  But Leonard had been a genius and
&nbsp;was deeply sensitive to the wonders of the world, so the margins were full
&nbsp;of detailed doodles of whatever was on this mind at the moment--vast
&nbsp;water-powered engines for bringing down city walls on the heads of the
&nbsp;enemy, new types of siege guns for pumping flaming oil over the enemy,
&nbsp;gunpowder rockets that showered the enemy with burning phosphorous, and
&nbsp;other manufactures of the Age of Reason.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And there had been something else.  The Librarian had noticed it in
&nbsp;passing once before, and had been slightly puzzled by it.  It seemed out
&nbsp;of place.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) And didn't appear to do anything to the enemy /at all/.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Soul Music, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 152 (much of the story concerns "Music With Rocks In")
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;Some religions say that the universe was started with a word, a song,
&nbsp;a dance, a piece of music.  The Listening Monks of the Ramtops have
&nbsp;trained their hearing until they can tell the value of a playing card by
&nbsp;listening to it, and have made it their task to listen intently to the
&nbsp;subtle sounds of the universe to piece together, from the fossile echoes,
&nbsp;the very first noises.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There was certainly, they say, a very strange noise at the beginning of
&nbsp;everything.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;But the keenest ears (the ones who win most at poker), who listen to the
&nbsp;frozen echoes in the ammonites and amber, swear they can detect some tiny
&nbsp;sounds before that.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It sounded, they say, like someone counting:  One, Two, Three, Four.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The very best one, who listened to basalt, said he thought he could make
&nbsp;out, very faintly, some numbers that came even earlier.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;When they asked him what it was, he said:  "It sounds like One, Two."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Soul Music, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 227
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;The Death of Rats put his nose in his paws.  It was a lot easier with
&nbsp;rats.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Rats had featured largely in the history of Ankh-Morpork.  Shortly
&nbsp;before the Patrician came to power there was a terrible plague of rats.
&nbsp;The city council countered it by offering twenty pence for every rat
&nbsp;tail.  This did, for a week or two, reduce the number of rats--and then
&nbsp;people were suddenly queueing up with tails, the city treasury was being
&nbsp;drained, and no one seemed to be doing much work.  And there /still/
&nbsp;seemed to be a lot of rats around.  Lord Vetinari had listened carefully
&nbsp;while the problem was explained, and had solved the thing with one
&nbsp;memorable phrase which said a lot about him, about the folly of bounty
&nbsp;offers, and about the natural instinct of Ankh-Morporkians in any
&nbsp;situation involving money:  "Tax the rat farms."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Soul Music, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 313-314 (Drongo and Big Mad Adrian are students)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;The Archchancellor polished this staff as he walked along.  It was a
&nbsp;particularly good one, six feet long and quite magical.  Not that he used
&nbsp;magic very much.  In his experience, anything that couldn't be disposed of
&nbsp;with a couple of whacks from six feet of oak was probably immune to magic
&nbsp;as well.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Don't you think we should have brought the senior wizards, sir?" said
&nbsp;Ponder, struggling to keep up.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I'm afraid that taking them along in their present state of mind would
&nbsp;only make what happens"--Ridcully sought for a useful phrase, and settled
&nbsp;for--"happen worse.  I've insisted they stay in college."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"How about Drongo and the others?" said Ponder hopefully.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Would they be any good in the event of a thaumaturgical dimension rip of
&nbsp;enormous proportions?" said Ridcully.  "I remember poor Mr. Hong.  One
&nbsp;minute he was dishing up an order of double cod and mushy peas, the
&nbsp;next ..."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Kaboom?" said Ponder.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Kaboom?" said Ridcully, forcing his way up the crowded street.  "Not
&nbsp;that I heard tell.  More like 'Aaaaerrrr-scream-gristle- gristle-gristle-
&nbsp;crack' and a shower of fried food.  Big Mad Adrian and his friends any
&nbsp;good when the chips are down?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Um.  Probably not, Archchancellor."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Correct.  People shout and run about.  That never did any good.  A pocket
&nbsp;full of decent spells and a well-charged staff will get you out of trouble
&nbsp;nine times out of ten."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Nine times out of ten?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Correct."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"How many times have you had to rely on them, sir?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well ... there was Mr. Hong ... that business with the thing in the
&nbsp;Bursar's wardrobe ... that dragon, you remember ..." Ridcully's lips
&nbsp;moved silently as he counted on his fingers.  "Nine times, so far."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It worked every time, sir?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Absolutely!  So there's no need to worry.  Gangway!  Wizard comin'
&nbsp;through."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Soul Music, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 339
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;The wizards went rigid as the howl rang through the building.  It was
&nbsp;slightly animal but also mineral, metallic, edged like a saw.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Eventually the Lecturer in Recent Runes said, "Of course, just because
&nbsp;we've heard a spine-chilling blood-curdling scream of the sort to make
&nbsp;your very marrow freeze in your bones doesn't automatically mean there's
&nbsp;anything wrong."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The wizards looked out into the corridor.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It came from downstairs somewhere," said the Chair of Indefinite Studies,
&nbsp;heading for the staircase.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"So why are you going /upstairs/?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Because I'm not daft!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"But it might be some terrible emanation!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You don't say?" said the Chair, still accelerating.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"All right, please yourself.  That's the students floor up there."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ah, Er--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The Chair came down slowly, occasionally glancing fearfully up the stairs.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Soul Music, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Interesting Times (10)
&nbsp;# p.1 (footnote)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;Whatever happens, they say afterwards, it must have been fate.  People are
&nbsp;always a little confused about this, as they are in the case of miracles.
&nbsp;When someone is saved from certain death by a strange concatenation of
&nbsp;circumstances, they say that's a miracle.  But of course if someone is
&nbsp;killed by a freak chain of events--the oil spilled just there, the safety
&nbsp;fence broken just there--that must also be a miracle.  Just because it's
&nbsp;not nice doesn't mean it's not miraculous.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Interesting Times, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 18
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;"Oh, no," said the Lecturer in Recent Runes, pushing his chair back.  "Not
&nbsp;that.  That's meddling with things you don't understand."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, we /are/ wizards," said Ridcully. "We're supposed to meddle with
&nbsp;things we don't understand.  If we hung around waitin' till we understood
&nbsp;things we'd never get anything done."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Interesting Times, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 4
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;According to the philosopher Ly Tin Wheedle, chaos is found in greatest
&nbsp;abundance wherever order is being sought.  It always defeats order, because
&nbsp;it is better organized.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Interesting Times, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 14
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;Many things went on at Unseen University and, regrettably, teaching had to
&nbsp;be one of them.  The faculty had long ago confronted this fact and had
&nbsp;perfected various devices for avoiding it.  But this was perfectly all
&nbsp;right because, to be fair, so had the students.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The system worked quite well and, as happens in such cases, had taken on
&nbsp;the status of a tradition.  Lectures clearly took place, because they
&nbsp;were down there on the timetable in black and white.  The fact that no one
&nbsp;attended was an irrelevant detail.  It was occasionally maintained that
&nbsp;this meant that the lectures did not in fact happen at all, but no one ever
&nbsp;attended them to find out if this was true.  Anyway, it was argued (by the
&nbsp;Reader in Woolly Thinking(1)) that lectures had taken place /in essence/,
&nbsp;so that was all right, too.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And therefore education at the University mostly worked by the age-old
&nbsp;method of putting a lot of young people in the vicinity of a lot of books
&nbsp;and hoping that something would pass from one to the other, while the
&nbsp;actual young people put themselves in the vicinity of inns and taverns
&nbsp;for exactly the same reason.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Which is like Fuzzy Logic, only less so.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Interesting Times, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 20 (speaker is Archchancellor Ridcully; sad, hopeless person is Rincewind)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"Wizzard?" he said.  "What kind of sad, hopeless person needs to write
&nbsp;WIZZARD on their hat?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Interesting Times, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 113
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;Self-doubt was something not regularly entertained within the Cohen cranium.
&nbsp;When you're trying to carry a struggling temple maiden and a sack of looted
&nbsp;temple goods in one hand and fight off half a dozen angry priests with the
&nbsp;other there is little time for reflection.  Natural selection saw to it
&nbsp;that professional heroes who at a crucial moment tended to ask themselves
&nbsp;questions like "What is the purpose of life?" very quickly lacked both.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Interesting Times, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 113 (same page as previous passage...)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;Cohen's father had taken him to a mountain top, when he was no more than a
&nbsp;lad, and explained to him the hero's creed and told him that there was no
&nbsp;greater joy than to die in battle.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Cohen had seen the flaw in this straight away, and a lifetime's experience
&nbsp;had reinforced his belief that in fact a greater joy was to kill the /other/
&nbsp;bugger in battle and end up sitting on a heap of gold higher than your
&nbsp;horse.  It was an observation that had served him well.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Interesting Times, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 144
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;"'Dang'?" he said.  "Wassat mean?  And what's this 'darn' and 'heck'?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"They are ... /civilised/ swearwords." said Mr. Saveloy.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, you can take 'em and--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ah?" said Mr. Saveloy, raising a cautionary finger.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You can shove them up--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ah?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You can--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ah?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Truckle shut his eyes and clenched his fists.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Darn it all to heck!" he shouted.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Good," said Mr. Saveloy.  "That's much better."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Interesting Times, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 219 (sic: "Dedd")
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;The taxman was warming to his new job.  He'd worked out that although the
&nbsp;Horde, as individuals, had acquired mountains of cash in their careers as
&nbsp;barbarian heroes they'd lost almost all of it engaging in the other
&nbsp;activities (he mentally catalogued these as Public Relations) necessary to
&nbsp;the profession, and therefore were entitled to quite a considerable rebate.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The fact that they were registered with no revenue collecting authority
&nbsp;/anywhere/(1) was entirely a secondary point.  It was the principle that
&nbsp;counted.  And the interest, too, of course.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Except on posters with legends like "Wanted--Dedd".
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Interesting Times, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 297
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;"What do we do now?" said Mr. Saveloy.  "Do we do a battle chant or
&nbsp;something?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"We just wait," said Cohen.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"There's a lot of waiting in warfare," said Boy Willie.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ah, yes," said Mr. Saveloy.  "I've heard people say that.  They say
&nbsp;there's long periods of boredom followed by short periods of excitement."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Not really," said Cohen.  "It's more like short periods of waiting
&nbsp;followed by long periods of being dead."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Interesting Times, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Maskerade (9)
&nbsp;# pp. 81-82, continued on pp. 87-89 (Harper Torch edition; apparently
&nbsp;#       transcribed from some other edition based on quote marks used;
&nbsp;#       a great number of very short paragraphs--it stretches a long way
&nbsp;#       when using a blank line to separate one paragraph from another;
&nbsp;#       one omitted bit is that after Granny shuffles the deck of cards
&nbsp;#       and deals two poker hands, Death swaps them, suggesting that
&nbsp;#       he suspected her of cheating; initial transcription left off
&nbsp;#       the most interesting bit, Death's wink at the end)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;'Maybe you could ... help us?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'What's wrong?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'It's my boy ...'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Granny opened the door farther and saw the woman standing behind Mr. Slot.
&nbsp;One look at her face was enough.  There was a bundle in her arms.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Granny stepped back.  'Bring him in and let me have a look at him.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;She took the baby from the woman, sat down on the room's one chair, and
&nbsp;pulled back the blanket.  Nanny Ogg peered over her shoulder.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Hmm,' said Granny, after a while.  She glanced at Nanny, who gave an
&nbsp;almost imperceptible shake of her head.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'There's a curse on this house, that's what it is,' said Slot.  'My best
&nbsp;cow's been taken mortally sick, too.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Oh?  You have a cowshed?' said Granny.  'Very good place for a sickroom,
&nbsp;a cowshed.  It's the warmth.  You better show me where it is.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'You want to take the boy down there?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Right now.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'How many have you come for?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;ONE.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'The cow?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Death shook his head.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'It could /be/ the cow.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;NO.  THAT WOULD BE CHANGING HISTORY.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'History is about things changing.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;NO.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Granny sat back.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Then I challenge you to a game.  That's traditional.  That's /allowed/.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Death was silent for a moment.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;THIS IS TRUE.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Good.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;CHALLENGING ME BY MEANS OF A GAME IS ALLOWABLE.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;HOWEVER ... YOU UNDERSTAND THAT TO WIN ALL YOU MUST GAMBLE ALL?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Double or quits?  Yes, I know.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;BUT NOT CHESS.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Can't abide chess.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;OR CRIPPLE MR. ONION.  I'VE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO UNDERSTAND THE RULES.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Very well.  How about one hand of poker?  Five cards each, no draws?
&nbsp;Sudden death, as they say.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Death thought about this, too.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;YOU KNOW THIS FAMILY?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'No.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;THEN WHY?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Are we talking or are we playing?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;OH, VERY WELL.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Granny looked at her cards, and threw them down.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;FOUR QUEENS.  HMM.  THAT /IS/ VERY HIGH.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Death looked down at his cards, and then up into Granny's steady, blue-eyed
&nbsp;gaze.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Neither moved for some time.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Then Death laid the hand on the table.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;I LOSE, he said.  ALL I HAVE IS FOUR ONES.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He looked back into Granny's eyes for a moment.  There was a blue glow in
&nbsp;the depth of his eye-sockets.  Maybe, for the merest fraction of a second,
&nbsp;barely noticeable even to the closest observation, one winked off.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 67 (Harper Torch edition; as above, transcribed from some other edition)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;The letter inside was on a sheet of the Opera House's own note paper.
&nbsp;In neat, copperplate writing, it said:
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  Ahahahahaha!  Ahahahaha!  Aahahaha!
&nbsp;            BEWARE!!!!!
&nbsp;
&nbsp;          Yrs sincerely
&nbsp;              The Opera Ghost
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'What sort of person,' said Salzella patiently, 'sits down and /writes/ a
&nbsp;maniacal laugh?  And all those exclamation marks, you notice?  Five?  A
&nbsp;sure sign of someone who wears his underpants on his head.  Opera can do
&nbsp;that to a man.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;     [Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 30-31 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;Agnes had woken up one morning with the horrible realization that she'd
&nbsp;been saddled with a lovely personality.  It was as simple as that.  Oh,
&nbsp;and very good hair.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It wasn't so much the personality, it was the "but" people always added
&nbsp;when they talked about it.  /But she's got a lovely personality/, they
&nbsp;said.  It was the lack of choice that rankled.  No one had asked her,
&nbsp;before she was born, whether she wanted a lovely personality or whether
&nbsp;she'd prefer, say, a miserable personality but a body that could take
&nbsp;size nine in dresses.  Instead, people would take pains to tell her that
&nbsp;beauty was only skin-deep, as if a man ever fell for an attractive pair
&nbsp;of kidneys.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 258
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;'And what can I get you, officers?' she said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Officers?  Us?' said the Count de Nobbes.  'What makes you think we're
&nbsp;watchmen?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'He's got a helmet on,' Nanny pointed out.  'Also, he's got his badge
&nbsp;pinned to his coat.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'I /told/ you to put it away!' Nobby hissed.  He looked at Nanny and
&nbsp;smiled uneasily.  'Milit'ry chic,' he said.  'It's just a fashion
&nbsp;accessory.  Actually, we are gentlemen of means and have nothing to do
&nbsp;with the city Watch whatsoever.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Well, /gentlemen/, would you like some wine?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Not while we on duty, t'anks,' said the troll.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 27 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;Lancre had always bred strong, capable women.  A Lancre farmer needed a
&nbsp;wife who'd think nothing of beating a wolf to death with her apron when
&nbsp;she went out to get some firewood.  And, while kissing initially seemed to
&nbsp;have more charms than cookery, a stolid Lancre lad looking for a bride
&nbsp;would bear in mind his father's advice that kisses eventually lost their
&nbsp;fire but cookery tended to get even better over the years, and direct his
&nbsp;courting to those families that clearly showed a tradition of enjoying
&nbsp;their food.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 28
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;Music and magic had a lot in common.  They were only two letters apart,
&nbsp;for one thing.  And you couldn't do both.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 31
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;She'd caught herself saying "poot!" and "dang!" when she wanted to swear,
&nbsp;and using pink writing paper.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;She'd got a reputation for being calm and capable in a crisis.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Next thing she knew she'd be making shortbread and apple pies as good as
&nbsp;her mother's, and then there'd be no hope for her.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;So she'd introduced Perdita.  She'd heard somewhere that inside every fat
&nbsp;woman was a thin woman trying to get out,(1) so she'd named her Perdita.
&nbsp;She was a good repository for all those thoughts that Agnes couldn't think
&nbsp;on account of her wonderful personality.  Perdita would use black writing
&nbsp;paper if she could get away with it, and would be beautifully pale instead
&nbsp;of embarrassingly flushed.  Perdita wanted to be an interestingly lost soul
&nbsp;in plum-colored lipstick.  Just occasionally, though, Agnes thought
&nbsp;Perdita was as dumb as she was.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Or, at least, dying for chocolate.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 197 (dress shop proprietor has just sold an expensive dress to Granny)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;She looked down at the money in her hand.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;She knew about old money, which was somehow hallowed by the fact that
&nbsp;people had hung on to it for years, and she knew about new money, which
&nbsp;seemed to be being made by all these upstarts that were flooding into the
&nbsp;city these days.  But under her powdered bosom she was an Ankh-Morpork
&nbsp;shopkeeper, and knew that the best kind of money was the sort that was in
&nbsp;her hand rather than someone else's.  The best kind of money was mine,
&nbsp;not yours.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Besides, she was also enough of a snob to confuse rudeness with good
&nbsp;breeding.  In the same way that the really rich can never be mad (they're
&nbsp;eccentric), so they can also never be rude (they're outspoken and
&nbsp;forthright).
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 288-289
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;Detritus reached down and picked up an eye patch.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What d'you think, then?" said Nobby scornfully.  "You think he turned into
&nbsp;a bat and flew away?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ha!  I do not t'ink that 'cos it is in ... consist ... ent with modern
&nbsp;policing," said Detritus.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, /I/ think," said Nobby, "that when you have ruled out the impossible,
&nbsp;what is left, however improbable, ain't worth hanging around on a cold night
&nbsp;wonderin' about when you could be getting on the outside of a big drink.
&nbsp;Come on.  I want to try a leg of the elephant that bit me."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Was dat irony?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That was metaphor."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Feet of Clay (14)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;Rumour is information distilled so finely that it can filter through
&nbsp;anything.  It does not need doors and windows -- sometimes it does not need
&nbsp;people.  It can exist free and wild, running from ear to ear without ever
&nbsp;touching lips.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 337 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;It was hard enough to kill a vampire.  You could stake them down and turn
&nbsp;them into dust and ten years later someone drops a drop of blood in the
&nbsp;wrong place and /guess who's back/?  They returned more times than raw
&nbsp;broccoli.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 4
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;People look down on stuff like geography and meteorology, and not only
&nbsp;because they're standing on one and being soaked by the other.  They don't
&nbsp;look quite like real science.(1)  But geography is only physics slowed
&nbsp;down and with a few trees stuck on it, and meteorology is full of
&nbsp;excitingly fashionable chaos and complexity.  And summer isn't a time.
&nbsp;It's a place as well.  Summer is a moving creature and likes to go south
&nbsp;for the winter.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) That is to say, the sort you can use to give something three extra
&nbsp;legs and then blow it up.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 19
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;Upstairs, Vimes pushed open his office door carefully.  The Assassins'
&nbsp;Guild played to rules.  You could say that about the bastards.  It was
&nbsp;terribly bad form to kill a bystander.  Apart from anything else, you
&nbsp;wouldn't get paid.  So traps in his office were out of the question,
&nbsp;because too many people were in and out of it every day.  Even so, it
&nbsp;paid to be careful.  Vimes /was/ good at making the kind of rich enemies
&nbsp;who could afford to employ assassins.  The assassins had to be lucky
&nbsp;only once, but Vimes had to be lucky all the time.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 86 (passage continues, actually finding an image in dead man's eyes)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"Er ... have you ever heard the story about dead men's eyes, sir?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Assume I haven't had a literary education, Littlebottom."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well ... they say ..."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"/Who/ say?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"/They/, sir.  You know, /they/."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"The same people who're the 'everyone' in 'everyone knows'?  The people
&nbsp;who live in 'the community'?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes, sir.  I suppose so, sir."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Vimes waved a hand.  "Oh, /them/.  Well, go on."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"They say that the last thing a man sees stays imprinted in his eyes, sir."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh, /that/.  That's just an old story."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 127-128
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;Everyone in the city looked after themselves.  That's what the guilds were
&nbsp;for.  People banded together against other people.  The guild looked after
&nbsp;you from the cradle to the grave or, in the case of the Assassins, to
&nbsp;other people's graves.  They even maintained the law, or at least they had
&nbsp;done, after a fashion.  Thieving without a license was punishable by death
&nbsp;for the first offense.(1)  The Thieves' Guild saw to that.  The arrangement
&nbsp;sounded unreal, but it worked.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It worked like a machine.  That was fine except for the occasional people
&nbsp;who got caught in the wheels.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) The Ankh-Morpork view of crime and punishment was that the penalty for
&nbsp;the first offence should prevent the possibility of a second offense.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 129, continued pp. 132-133
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;Vimes struggled to his feet, shook his head, and set off after it.  No
&nbsp;thought was involved.  It is the ancient instinct of terriers and
&nbsp;policemen to chase anything that runs away.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Vimes pounded through the fog after the fleeing figure.  It wasn't quite
&nbsp;so fast as him, despite the twinges in his legs and one or two warning
&nbsp;stabs from his left knee, but whenever he came close to it some muffled
&nbsp;pedestrian got in the way, or a cart pulled out from a cross street.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) This always happens in any police chase /anywhere/.  A heavily laden
&nbsp;lorry will /always/ pull out of a side alley in front of the pursuit.  If
&nbsp;vehicles aren't involved, then it'll be a man with a rack of garments.
&nbsp;Or two men with a large sheet of glass.  There's probably some kind of
&nbsp;secret society behind all this.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 165
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;Ron had a small grayish-brown, torn-eared terrier on the end of a string,
&nbsp;although in truth it would be hard for an observer to know exactly who
&nbsp;was leading whom and who, when push came to shove, would be the one to
&nbsp;fold at the knees if the other shouted "Sit!"  Because, although trained
&nbsp;canines as aids for those bereft of sight, and even of hearing, have
&nbsp;frequently been used throughout the universe, Foul Ole Ron was the first
&nbsp;person ever to own a Thinking-Brain Dog.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 173-174
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;Samuel Vimes dreamed about Clues.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He had a jaundiced view of Clues.  He instinctively distrusted them.  They
&nbsp;got in the way.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And he distrusted the kind of person who'd take one look at another man
&nbsp;and say in a lordly voice to his companion, "Ah, my dear sir.  I can tell
&nbsp;you nothing except that he is a left-handed stonemason who has spent some
&nbsp;years in the merchant navy and has recently fallen on hard times," and
&nbsp;then unroll a lot of supercilious commentary about calluses and stance
&nbsp;and the state of a man's boots, when /exactly the same/ comments could
&nbsp;apply to a man who was wearing his old clothes because he'd been doing a
&nbsp;spot of home bricklaying for a new barbecue pit, and had been tattooed
&nbsp;once when he was drunk and seventeen(1) and in fact got seasick on a wet
&nbsp;pavement.  What arrogance!  What an insult to the rich and chaotic variety
&nbsp;of the human experience.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It was the same with more static evidence.  The footprints in the
&nbsp;flowerbed were probably /in the real world/ left by the window-cleaner.
&nbsp;The scream in the night was quite likely a man getting out of bed and
&nbsp;stepping sharply on an upturned hairbrush.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The real world was far too /real/ to leave neat little hints.  It was full
&nbsp;of too many things.  It wasn't by eliminating the impossible that you got
&nbsp;at the truth, however improbable; it was by the much harder process of
&nbsp;eliminating the possibilities.  You worked away, patiently asking questions
&nbsp;and looking hard at things.  You walked and talked, and in your heart you
&nbsp;just hoped like hell that some bugger's nerve'd crack and he'd give himself
&nbsp;up.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) These terms are often synonymous.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 188
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;"Life has certainly been more reliable under Vetinari," said Mr. Potts of
&nbsp;the Bakers' Guild.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"He does have all the street-theater players and mime artists thrown into
&nbsp;the scorpion pit," said Mr. Boggis of the Thieves' Guild.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"True.  But let's not forget that he has his bad points too.  [...]"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 198
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;What a mess the world was in, Vimes reflected.  Constable Visit had told
&nbsp;him the meek would inherit it, and what had the poor devils done to deserve
&nbsp;/that/?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 295
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;Rogers the bulls were angry and bewildered, which counts as the basic state
&nbsp;of mind for full grown bulls.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Because of the huge obtrusive mass of his forehead, Rogers the bulls'
&nbsp;view of the universe was from two eyes each with their own non-overlapping
&nbsp;hemispherical view of the world.  Since there were two separate visions,
&nbsp;Rogers had reasoned, that meant there must be two bulls (bulls not having
&nbsp;been bred for much deductive reasoning).  Most bulls believe this, which is
&nbsp;why they always keep turning their head this way and that when they look at
&nbsp;you.  They do this because both of them want to see.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 312 ('meaning' line capitalizes every word, including 'A','For','To')
&nbsp;%passage 13
&nbsp;"It's the most menacing dwarf battle-cry there is!  Once it's been shouted
&nbsp;/someone/ has to be killed!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What's it mean?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Today Is A Good Day For Someone Else To Die!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 347 (Colon is addressing Dorfl, a golem who is joining the Watch)
&nbsp;%passage 14
&nbsp;"Y'know," said Colon, "if it doesn't work out, you could always get a job
&nbsp;making fortune cookies."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Funny thing, that," said Nobby.  "You never get bad fortunes in cookies,
&nbsp;ever noticed that?  They never say stuff like: 'Oh dear, things are going
&nbsp;to be /really/ bad.'  I mean, they're never /misfortune/ cookies."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Vimes lit a cigar and shook the match to put it out.  "That, Corporal, is
&nbsp;because of one of the fundamental driving forces of the universe."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What?  Like, people who read fortune cookies are the lucky ones?" said
&nbsp;Nobby.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"No.  Because people who /sell/ fortune cookies want to go on selling
&nbsp;them.  [...]"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Hogfather (10)
&nbsp;# p. 1 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;Everything starts somewhere, though many physicists disagree.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;But people have always been dimly aware of the problem with the start of
&nbsp;things.  They wonder how the snowplow driver gets to work, or how the
&nbsp;makers of dictionaries look up the spelling of words.  Yet there is the
&nbsp;constant desire to find some point in the twisting, knotting, raveling
&nbsp;nets of space-time on which a metaphorical finger can be put to indicate
&nbsp;that here, /here/, is the point where it all began ...
&nbsp;
&nbsp;/Something/ began when the Guild of Assassins enrolled Mister Teatime,
&nbsp;who saw things differently from other people, and one of the ways that
&nbsp;he saw things differently from other people was in seeing other people
&nbsp;as things (later, Lord Downey of the Guild said, "We took pity on him
&nbsp;because he'd lost both parents at an early age.  I think that, on
&nbsp;reflection, we should have wondered a bit more about that.")
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Hogfather, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 28-29
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;If asked to describe what they did for a living, the five men around the
&nbsp;table would have said something like "This and that" or "The best I can,"
&nbsp;although in Banjo's case he'd probably have said "Dur?"  They were, by the
&nbsp;standards of an uncaring society, criminals, although they wouldn't have
&nbsp;thought of themselves as such and couldn't even /spell/ words like
&nbsp;"nefarious."  What they generally did was move things around.  Sometimes
&nbsp;the things were on the wrong side of a steel door, or in the wrong house.
&nbsp;Sometimes the things were in fact people who were far too unimportant to
&nbsp;trouble the Assassins' Guild with, but who were nevertheless inconveniently
&nbsp;positioned where they were and would be much better located on, for
&nbsp;example, a sea bed somewhere.(1)  None of the five belonged to any formal
&nbsp;guild and they generally found their clients among those people who, for
&nbsp;their own dark reasons, didn't want to put the guilds to any trouble,
&nbsp;sometimes because they were guild members themselves.  They had plenty of
&nbsp;work.  There was always something that needed transferring from A to B or,
&nbsp;of course, to the bottom of the C.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Chickenwire had got his name from his own individual contribution to
&nbsp;the science of this very specialized "concrete overshoe" form of waste
&nbsp;disposal.  An unfortunate drawback of the process was the tendency for
&nbsp;bits of the client to eventually detach and float to the surface, causing
&nbsp;much comment among the general population.  Enough chicken wire, he pointed
&nbsp;out, would solve that, while also allowing the ingress of crabs and fish
&nbsp;going about their vital recycling activities.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Hogfather, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 109-110
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;Although it was Hogswatch the University buildings were bustling.  Wizards
&nbsp;didn't go to bed early in any case,(1) and of course there was the
&nbsp;Hogswatchnight Feast to look forward to at midnight.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It would give some idea of the scale of the Hogswatchnight Feast that a
&nbsp;light snack at UU consisted of three or four courses, not counting the
&nbsp;cheese and nuts.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Some of the wizards had been practicing for weeks.  The Dean in particular
&nbsp;could now lift a twenty-pound turkey on one fork.  Having to wait until
&nbsp;midnight merely put a healthy edge on appetites already professionally
&nbsp;honed.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Often they lived to a time scale to suit themselves.  Many of the
&nbsp;senior ones, of course, lived entirely in the past, but several were like
&nbsp;the Professor of Anthropics, who had invented an entire temporal system
&nbsp;based on the belief that all the other ones were a mere illusion.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Many people are aware of the Weak and Strong Anthropic Principles.  The
&nbsp;Weak One says, basically, that it was jolly amazing of the universe to be
&nbsp;constructed in such a way that humans could evolve to a point where they
&nbsp;could make a living in, for example, universities, while the Strong One
&nbsp;says that, on the contrary, the whole point of the universe was that
&nbsp;humans should not only work in universities, but also write for huge sums
&nbsp;books with words like "Cosmic" and "Chaos" in the titles.(2)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The UU Professor of Anthropics had developed the Special and Inevitable
&nbsp;Anthropic Principle, which was that the entire reason for the existence of
&nbsp;the universe was the eventual evolution of the UU Professor of Anthropics.
&nbsp;But this was only a formal statement of the theory which absolutely
&nbsp;everyone, with only some minor details of a "Fill in name here" nature,
&nbsp;secretly believes to be true.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(2) And they are correct.  The universe clearly operates for the benefit
&nbsp;of humanity.  This can be readily seen by the convenient way the sun comes
&nbsp;up in the morning, when people are ready to start the day.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Hogfather, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 112-113 (we end this passage mid-paragraph...)
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;"Watch this, sir," said Ponder.  "All right, Adrian, initialize the GBL."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"How do you do that, then?" said Ridcully, behind him.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It ... it means pull the great big lever," Ponder said, reluctantly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ah.  Takes less time to say."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Ponder sighed.  "Yes, that's right, Archchancellor."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He nodded to one of the students, who pulled a large red lever marked "Do
&nbsp;Not Pull."  Gears spun, somewhere inside Hex.  Little trapdoors opened in
&nbsp;the ant farms and millions of ants began to scurry along the networks of
&nbsp;glass tubing.  Ponder tapped at the huge wooden keyboard.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Beats me how you fellows remember how to do all this stuff," said Ridcully,
&nbsp;still watching him with what Ponder considered to be amused interest.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh, it's largely intuitive, Archchancellor," said Ponder.  "Obviously you
&nbsp;have to spend a lot of time learning it first, though.  [...]"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Hogfather, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 139-140
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"Tell me, Senior Wrangler, we never invited any /women/ to the
&nbsp;Hogswatchnight Feast, did we?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Of course not, Archchancellor," said the Senior Wrangler.  He looked up
&nbsp;in the dust-covered rafters, wondering what had caught the Archchancellor's
&nbsp;eye.  "Good heavens, no.  They'd spoil everything.  I've always said so."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And all the maids have got the evening off until midnight?."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"A very generous custom, I've always said," said the Senior Wrangler,
&nbsp;feeling his neck crick.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"So why, every year, do we hang a damn great bunch of mistletoe up there?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The Senior Wrangler turned in a circle, still looking upward.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, er ... it's well, it's ... it's symbolic, Archchancellor."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ah?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The Senior Wrangler felt that something more was expected.  He groped
&nbsp;around in the dusty attics of his education.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Of ... the leaves, d'y'see ... they're symbolic of ... of green, d'y'see,
&nbsp;whereas the berries, in fact, yes, the berries symbolize ... symbolize
&nbsp;white.  Yes.  White and green.  Very ... symbolic."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He waited.  He was not, unfortunately, disappointed.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What of?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The Senior Wrangler coughed.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I'm not sure there /has/ to be an /of/," he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ah?  So," said the Archchancellor thoughtfully, "it could be said that
&nbsp;the white and green symbolize a small parasitic plant?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes, indeed," said the Senior Wrangler.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"So mistletoe, in fact, symbolizes mistletoe?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Exactly, Archchancellor," said the Senior Wrangler, who was now just
&nbsp;hanging on.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Funny thing, that," said Ridcully, in the same thoughtful tone of voice.
&nbsp;"That statement is either so deep it would take a lifetime to fully
&nbsp;comprehend every particle of its meaning, or it is a load of absolute
&nbsp;tosh.  Which is it, I wonder?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It could be both," said the Senior Wrangler desperately.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And /that/ comment," said Ridcully, "is either very perceptive or very
&nbsp;trite."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It could be bo--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Don't push it, Senior Wrangler."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Hogfather, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 170 ([sic], sentence at end of paragraph should have fourth period)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;What Ponder was worried about was the fear that he was simply engaged in a
&nbsp;cargo cult.  He'd read about them.  Ignorant(1) and credulous(2) people,
&nbsp;whose island might once have been visited by some itinerant merchant
&nbsp;vessel that traded pearls and coconuts for such fruits of civilization as
&nbsp;glass beads, mirrors, axes, and sexual diseases, would later make big model
&nbsp;ships out of bamboo in the hope of once again attracting this magical
&nbsp;cargo.  Of course, they were far too ignorant and credulous to know that
&nbsp;just because you built the shape you didn't get the substance ...
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Ignorant:  the state of not knowing what a pronoun is, or how to find
&nbsp;the square root of 27.4, and merely knowing childish and useless things
&nbsp;like which of the seventy almost identical-looking species of the purple
&nbsp;sea snake are the deadly ones, how to treat the poisonous pith of the
&nbsp;Sago-sago tree to make a nourishing gruel, how to foretell the weather by
&nbsp;the movements of the tree-climbing Burglar Crab, how to navigate across
&nbsp;a thousand miles of featureless ocean by means of a piece of string and a
&nbsp;small clay model of your grandfather, how to get essential vitamins from
&nbsp;the liver of the ferocious Ice Bear, and other such trivial matters.  It's
&nbsp;a strange thing that when everyone becomes educated, everyone knows about
&nbsp;the pronoun but no one knows about the Sago-sago.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(2) Credulous:  having views about the world, the universe and humanity's
&nbsp;place in it that are shared only by very unsophisticated people and the
&nbsp;most intelligent and advanced mathematicians and physicists.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Hogfather, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 244 (mantelpiece:  it's dark and Ponder is checking whether the Hogfather
&nbsp;#         [Discworld analog of Santa Claus/Father Christmas] has been there
&nbsp;#         and left presents in the stocking the Librarian has hung)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;There was silence again, and then a clang.  The Librarian grunted in his
&nbsp;sleep.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What are you doing?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I just knocked over the coal shovel."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Why are feeling around on the mantelpiece?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Oh, just ... you know, just ... just looking.  A little ... experiment.
&nbsp;After all, you never know."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You never know what?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Just ... never know, you know."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"/Sometimes/ you know," said Ridcully.  "I think I know quite a lot that
&nbsp;I didn't used to know.  It's amazing what you /do/ end up knowing, I
&nbsp;sometimes think.  I often wonder what new stuff I'll know."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, you never know."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That's a fact."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Hogfather, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 330
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;IT GETS UNDER YOUR SKIN, LIFE, said Death, stepping forward.  SPEAKING
&nbsp;METAPHORICALLY, OF COURSE.  IT'S A HABIT THAT'S HARD TO GIVE UP.  ONE PUFF
&nbsp;OF BREATH IS NEVER ENOUGH.  YOU'LL FIND YOU WANT TO TAKE ANOTHER.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Hogfather, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 336
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;HUMANS NEED FANTASY TO BE HUMAN.  TO BE THE PLACE WHERE THE FALLING ANGEL
&nbsp;MEETS THE RISING APE.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Tooth Fairies?  Hogfathers?  Little--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;YES.  AS PRACTICE.  YOU HAVE TO START OUT LEARNING TO BELIEVE THE /LITTLE/
&nbsp;LIES.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"So we can believe the big ones?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;YES.  JUSTICE.  MERCY.  DUTY.  THAT SORT OF THING.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Hogfather, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 343 (Mr. Teatime [pronounced Teh-ah-tim-eh] has just been thwarted in
&nbsp;#         his elaborate plot to lure and then kill Death)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;"What did he do it all for?" said Susan.  "I mean, why?  Money?  Power?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;SOME PEOPLE WILL DO ANYTHING FOR THE SHEER FASCINATION OF DOING IT, said
&nbsp;Death.  OR THE FAME.  OR BECAUSE THEY SHOULDN'T.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Hogfather, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Jingo (12)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;# p. 206 (Harper Torch Edition; passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;It was so much easier to blame it on Them.  It was bleakly depressing to
&nbsp;think that They were Us.  If it was Them, then nothing was anyone's fault.
&nbsp;If it was Us, what did that make Me?  After all, I'm one of Us.  I must be.
&nbsp;I've certainly never thought of myself as one of Them.  /No one/ ever thinks
&nbsp;of themselves as one of Them.  We're always one of Us.  It's Them that do
&nbsp;the bad things.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Jingo, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 23-25 (Harper Torch edition) [transcribed from some other edition]
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;There was a general shifting of position and a group clearing of throats.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'What about mercenaries?' said Boggis.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'The problem with mercenaries', said the Patrician, 'is that they need to
&nbsp;be paid to start fighting.  And, unless you are very lucky, you end up
&nbsp;paying them even more to stop--'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Selachii thumped the table.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Very well, then, by jingo!' he snarled.  'Alone!'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'We could certainly do with one,' said Lord Vetinari.  'We need the money.
&nbsp;I was about to say that we cannot /afford/ mercenaries.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'How can this be?' said Lord Downey.  Don't we pay our taxes?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Ah, I thought we might come to that,' said Lord Vetinari.  He raised
&nbsp;his hand and, on cue again, his clerk placed a piece of paper in it.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Let me see now ... ah yes.  Guild of Assassins ...  Gross earnings in
&nbsp;the last year: AM$13,207,048.  Taxes paid in the last year: forty-seven
&nbsp;dollars, twenty-two pence and what on examination turned out to be a
&nbsp;Hershebian half-/dong/, worth one eighth of a penny.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'That's all perfectly legal!  The Guild of Accountants--'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Ah yes.  Guild of Accountants: gross earnings AM$7,999,011.  Taxes paid:
&nbsp;nil.  But, ah yes, I see they applied for a rebate of AM$200,000.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'And what we received, I may say, included a Hershebian half-/dong/,'
&nbsp;said Mr Frostrip of the Guild of Accountants.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'What goes around comes around,' said Vetinari calmly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He tossed the paper aside.  'Taxation, gentlemen, is very much like dairy
&nbsp;farming.  The task is to extract the maximum amount of milk with the
&nbsp;minimum of moo.  And I am afraid to say that these days all I get is moo.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Are you telling us that Ankh-Morpork is /bankrupt/?' said Downey.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Of course.  While, at the same time, full of rich people.  I trust they
&nbsp;have been spending their good fortune on swords.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'And you have /allowed/ this wholesale tax avoidance?' said Lord Selachii.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Oh, the taxes haven't been avoided,' said Lord Vetinari.  'Or even evaded.
&nbsp;They just haven't been paid.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'That is a disgusting state of affairs!'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The Patrician raised his eyebrows. 'Commander Vines?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Yes, sir?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Would you be so good as to assemble a squad of your most experienced men,
&nbsp;liaise with the tax gatherers and obtain the accumulated back taxes,
&nbsp;please?  My clerk here will give you a list of the prime defaulters.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Right, sir.  And if they resist, sir?' said Vimes, smiling nastily.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Oh, how can they resist, commander?  This is the will of our civic
&nbsp;leaders.'  He took the paper his clerk profferred.  'Let me see, now.  Top
&nbsp;of the list--'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Lord Selachii coughed hurriedly.  'Far too late for that sort of nonsense
&nbsp;now,' he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Water under the bridge,' said Lord Downey.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Dead and buried,' said Mr Slant.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'I paid mine,' said Vimes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Jingo, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 7 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;As every student of exploration knows, the prize goes not to the explorer
&nbsp;who first sets foot upon the virgin soil but to the one who gets that foot
&nbsp;home first.  If it is still attached to his leg, this is a bonus.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Jingo, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 34
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;Sergeant Colon had had a broad education.  He'd been to the School of My
&nbsp;Dad Always Said, the College of It Stands to Reason, and was now a post-
&nbsp;graduate student at the University of What Some Bloke In the Pub Told Me.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Jingo, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 43-44
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"Hey, that's Reg Shoe!  He's a zombie.  He falls to bits all the time!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Very big man in the undead community, sir," said Carrot.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"How come /he/ joined?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"He came round last week to complain about the Watch harassing some
&nbsp;bogeymen, sir.  He was very, er, vehement, sir.  So I persuaded him that
&nbsp;what the Watch needed was some expertise, so he joined up, sir."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"No more complaints?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Twice as many, sir.  All from undead, sir, and all against Mr. Shoe.
&nbsp;Funny That."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Jingo, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 78-79
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;Perhaps it was because he was tired, or just because he was trying to shut
&nbsp;out the world, but Vimes found himself slowing down into the traditional
&nbsp;Watchman's walk and the traditional idling thought process.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It was an almost Pavlovian response.(1)  The legs swung, the feet moved,
&nbsp;the mind began to work in a certain way.  It wasn't a dream state, exactly.
&nbsp;It was just that the ears, nose and eyeballs wired themselves straight into
&nbsp;the ancient "suspicious bastard" node of his brain, leaving his higher
&nbsp;brain center free to freewheel.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) A term invented by the wizard Denephew Boot,(2) who had found that by
&nbsp;a system of rewards and punishments he could train a dog, at the ringing
&nbsp;of a bell, to immediately eat a strawberry meringue.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(2) His parents, who were uncomplicated country people, had wanted a girl.
&nbsp;They were expecting to call her Denise.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Jingo, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 92-93
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;"What was it, Leonard?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"An experimental device for turning chemical energy into rotary motion,"
&nbsp;said Leonard.  "The problem, you see, is getting the little pellets of
&nbsp;black powder into the combustion chamber at exactly the right speed and
&nbsp;one at a time.  If two ignite together, well, what he have is the
&nbsp;/external/ combustion engine."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And, er, what would be the purpose of it?" said the Patrician.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I believe it could replace the horse," Leonard said proudly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;They looked at the stricken thing.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"One of the advantages of horses that people often point out," said
&nbsp;Vetinari, after some thought, "is that they very seldom explode.  Almost
&nbsp;never, in my experience, apart from that unfortunate occurrence in the hot
&nbsp;summer a few years ago."  With fastidious fingers he pulled something out
&nbsp;of the mess.  It was a pair of cubes, made out of some soft white fur and
&nbsp;linked together by a piece of string.  There were dots on them.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Dice?" he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Leonard smiled in an embarrassed fashion.  "Yes.  I can't think why I
&nbsp;thought they'd help it go better.  It was just, well, an idea.  You know
&nbsp;how it is."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Jingo, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 98 (1st "He": Leonard; 2nd "He": Vetinari; last "He": Leonard again)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;He was as easily distracted as a kitten.  All that business with the
&nbsp;flying machine, for example.  Giant bat wings hung from the ceiling even
&nbsp;now.  The Patrician had been more than happy to let him waste his time on
&nbsp;that idea, because it was obvious to anyone that no human being would ever
&nbsp;be able to flap the wings hard enough.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He needn't have worried.  Leonard was his own distraction.  He had ended
&nbsp;up spending ages designing a special tray so that people could eat their
&nbsp;meals in the air.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Jingo, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 155
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;She held the lamp higher.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Ramkins looked down their noses at her from their frames, through the brown
&nbsp;varnish of the centuries.  Portraits were another thing that had been
&nbsp;collected out of unregarded habit.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Most of them were men.  They were invariably in armor and always on
&nbsp;horseback.  And every single one of them had fought the sworn enemies of
&nbsp;Ankh-Morpork.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;In recent times this had been quite difficult and her grandfather, for
&nbsp;example, had to lead an expedition all the way to Howondaland in order to
&nbsp;find some sworn enemies, although there was an adequate supply and a lot
&nbsp;of swearing by the time he left.  Earlier, of course, it had been a lot
&nbsp;easier.  Ramkin regiments had fought the city's enemies all over the Sto
&nbsp;Plains and had inflicted heroic casualties, quite often on people in the
&nbsp;opposing armies.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) It is a long-cherished tradition among a certain type of military
&nbsp;thinker that huge casualties are the main thing.  If they are on the other
&nbsp;side then this is a valuable bonus.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Jingo, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 180-181 (the same gag was used in the 1968 movie "Support Your Local
&nbsp;#              Sheriff", with a dented badge rather than a book)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;He rummaged in a pocket and produced a very small book, which he held up
&nbsp;for inspection.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"This belonged to my great-grandad," he said.  "He was in the scrap we had
&nbsp;against Pseudopolis and my great-gran gave him this book of prayers for
&nbsp;soldiers, 'cos you need all the prayers you can get, believe you me, and
&nbsp;he stuck it in the top pocket of his jerkin, 'cause he couldn't afford
&nbsp;armor, and next day in battle--whoosh, this arrow came out of nowhere, wham,
&nbsp;straight into this book and it went all the way through to the last page
&nbsp;before stopping, look.  You can see the hole."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Pretty miraculous," Carrot agreed.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yeah, it was, I s'pose," said the sergeant.  He looked ruefully at the
&nbsp;battered volume.  "Shame about the other seventeen arrows, really."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Jingo, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 218
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;"Er ... what is this thing called?" said Colon, as he followed the
&nbsp;Patrician up the ladder.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, because it is /submersed/ in a /marine/ environment, I've always
&nbsp;called it the Going-Under-the-Water-Safely Device," said Leonard, behind
&nbsp;him.(1)  "But usually I just think of it as the boat."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Thinking up good names was, oddly enough, was one area where Leonard
&nbsp;of Quirm's genious tended to give up.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Jingo, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 274 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;"[...]  I mean, what're our long-term objectives?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Cooking meals and keeping warm?" said Les hopefully.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, /initially/," said Jackson.  "That's obvious.  But you know what
&nbsp;they say, lad.  'Give a man a fire and he's warm for a day, but set fire to
&nbsp;him and he's warm for the rest of his life.'  See my point?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I don't think that's actually what the saying is--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Jingo, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title The Last Continent (10)
&nbsp;# p. 260 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;"Is it true that your life passes before your eyes before you die?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;YES.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ghastly thought, really."  Rincewind shuddered.  "Oh, /gods/, I've just
&nbsp;had another one.  Suppose I /am/ just about to die and /this/ is my whole
&nbsp;life passing in front of my eyes?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;I THINK PERHAPS YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND.  PEOPLE'S WHOLE LIVES /DO/ PASS IN
&nbsp;FRONT OF THEIR EYES BEFORE THEY DIE.  THE PROCESS IS CALLED "LIVING".  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;"When You're Up to Your Ass in Alligators, Today Is the First Day of the
&nbsp;Rest of Your Life."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p.3 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;All tribal myths are true, for a given value of "true."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 13-14
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;Ponder /knew/ he should never have let Ridcully look at the invisible
&nbsp;writings.  Wasn't it a basic principle never to let your employer know what
&nbsp;it is that you actually /do/ all day?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;But no matter what precautions you took, sooner or later the boss was bound
&nbsp;to come in and poke around and say things like, "Is this where you work,
&nbsp;then?" and "I thought I sent a memo out about people bringing in potted
&nbsp;plants," and "What d'you call that thing with the keyboard?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 21 (passage begins mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;[...]  Any true wizard, faced with a sign like "Do not open this door.
&nbsp;Really.  We mean it.  We're not kidding.  Opening this door will mean the
&nbsp;end of the universe," would /automatically/ open the door in order to see
&nbsp;what all the fuss was about.  This made signs a waste of time, but at least
&nbsp;it meant that when you handed what was left of the wizard to his grieving
&nbsp;relatives you could say, as they grasped the jar, "We /told/ him not to."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 22 (the books are acting up while the Librarian is incapacitated and
&nbsp;#        now it's unsafe to go into the library)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;"But we're a university!  We /have/ to have a library!" said Ridcully.  "It
&nbsp;adds /tone/.  What sort of people would we be if we didn't go into the
&nbsp;Library?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Students," said the Senior Wrangler morosely.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Hah, I remember when I was a student," said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.
&nbsp;"Old 'Bogeyboy' Swallett took us on an expedition to find the Lost Reading
&nbsp;Room.  Three weeks we were wandering around.  We had to eat our own boots."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Did you find it?" said the Dean.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"No, but we found the remains of the previous year's expedition."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What did you do?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"We ate their boots, too."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 45-46
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;Death had taken to keeping Rincewind's lifetimer on a special shelf in his
&nbsp;study, in much the way that a zoologist would want to keep an eye on a
&nbsp;particularly intriguing specimen.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The lifetimers of most people were the classic shape that Death thought
&nbsp;was right and proper for the task.  They appeared to be large eggtimers,
&nbsp;although, since the sands they measured were the living seconds of
&nbsp;someone's life, all the eggs were in one basket.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Rincewind's hourglass looked like something created by a glassblower who'd
&nbsp;had hiccups in a time machine.  According to the amount of actual sand it
&nbsp;contained--and Death was pretty good at making this kind of estimate--he
&nbsp;should have died long ago.  But strange curves and bends and extrusions of
&nbsp;glass had developed over the years, and quite often the sand was flowing
&nbsp;backwards, or diagonally.  Clearly, Rincewind had been hit by so much
&nbsp;magic, had been thrust reluctantly through time and space so often that
&nbsp;he'd nearly bumped into himself coming the other way, that the precise end
&nbsp;of his life was now as hard to find as the starting point on a roll of
&nbsp;really sticky transparent tape.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Death was familiar with the concept of the eternal, ever-renewed hero, the
&nbsp;champion with a thousand faces.  He'd refrained from commenting.  He met
&nbsp;heroes frequently, generally surrounded by, and this was important, the
&nbsp;dead bodies of /very nearly/ all of their enemies and saying, "Vot the hell
&nbsp;shust happened?"  Whether there was some arrangement that allowed them to
&nbsp;come back again afterwards was not something he would be drawn on.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;But he pondered whether, if this creature /did/ exist, it was somehow
&nbsp;balanced by the eternal coward.  The hero with a thousand retreating backs,
&nbsp;perhaps.  Many cultures had a legend of an undying hero who would one day
&nbsp;rise again, so perhaps the balance of nature called for one who wouldn't.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Whatever the ultimate truth of the matter, the fact now was that Death did
&nbsp;not have the slightest idea of when Rincewind was going to die.  This was
&nbsp;very vexing to a creature who prided himself on his punctuality.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 61
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;A black and white bird appeared, and perched on his head.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You know what to do," said the old man.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Him?  What a wonga," said the bird.  "I've been lookin' at him.  He's not
&nbsp;even heroic.  He's just in the right place at the right time."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The old man indicated that this was maybe the definition of a hero.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"All right, but why not go and get the thing yerself?" said the bird.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You've gotta have heroes," said the old man.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And I suppose I'll have to help," said the bird.  It sniffed, which is
&nbsp;quite hard to do through a beak.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yep.  Off you go."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The bird shrugged, which /is/ easy to do if you have wings, and flew down
&nbsp;off the old man's head.  It didn't land on the rock but flew into it; for
&nbsp;a moment there was a drawing of a bird, and then if faded.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Creators aren't gods.  They make places, which is quite hard.  It's men
&nbsp;that make gods.  This explains a lot.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The old man sat down and waited.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 186
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;She had a very straightforward view of foreign parts, or at least those
&nbsp;more distant than her sister's house in Quirm where she spent a week's
&nbsp;holiday every year.  They were inhabited by people who were more to be
&nbsp;pitied than blamed because, really, they were like children.(1)  And they
&nbsp;acted like savages.(2)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) That is to say, she secretly considered them to be vicious, selfish
&nbsp;and untrustworthy.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(2) Again, when people like Mrs. Whitlow use this term they are not, for
&nbsp;some inexplicable reason, trying to suggest that the subjects have a rich
&nbsp;oral tradition, a complex system of tribal rights and a deep respect for
&nbsp;the spirits of their ancestors.  They are implying the kind of behavior
&nbsp;more generally associated, oddly enough, with people wearing a full suit
&nbsp;of clothes, often with the same sort of insignia.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 187 (last paragraph truncated)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;"I suppose he wouldn't have done anything stupid, would he?" he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Archchancellor, Ponder Stibbons is a fully trained wizard!" said the Dean.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Thank you for that very concise and definite answer, Dean," said Ridcully.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Carpe Jugulum (8)
&nbsp;# p. 10 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;Agnes tended to obey rules.  Perdita didn't.  Perdita thought that not
&nbsp;obeying rules was somehow cool.  Agnes thought that rules like "Don't fall
&nbsp;into this huge pit of spikes" were there for a purpose.  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Carpe Jugulum, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 2 (example of the silliness and incomprehensability of the
&nbsp;#       Nac mac Feegle [aka pictsies, pict + pixie]; fortunately their
&nbsp;#       speech doesn't constitute much of the book's dialogue)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;"Nac mac Feegle!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ach, stickit yer trakkans!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Gie you sich a kickin'!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Bigjobs!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Dere c'n onlie be whin t'ousand!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Nac mac Feegle wha hae!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Wha hae yersel, ya boggin!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Carpe Jugulum, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 28 (from a discussion about whether Omnian priests still burn witches)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;"Hah!  The leopard does not change his shorts, my girl!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Carpe Jugulum, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 133
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;Things were not what they seemed.  But then, as Granny always said, they
&nbsp;never were.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Carpe Jugulum, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 254-255 ("verra comp-lic-ated" is accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"How can I ever repay you?" he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The pixie's eyes gleamed happily.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh, there's a wee bitty thing the Carlin' Ogg said you could be givin' us,
&nbsp;hardly important at all," he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Anything," said Verence.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;A couple of pixies came up staggering under a rolled-up parchment, which
&nbsp;was unfolded in front of Verence.  The old pixie was suddenly holding a
&nbsp;quill pen.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It's called a signature," he said, as Verence stared at the tiny
&nbsp;handwriting.  "An' make sure ye initial all the sub-clauses and codicils.
&nbsp;We of the Nac mac Feegle are a simple folk," he added, "but we write verra
&nbsp;comp-lic-ated documents."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Carpe Jugulum, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 326 (Igor's lisp of "th" for "s" makes this /look/ intentionally archaic
&nbsp;#         although it wouldn't be pronounced that way)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;"What goeth around, cometh around," said Igor.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Carpe Jugulum, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 336-337 (the plot is driven by the actions of a family of vampyres
&nbsp;#              who do mostly cooperate with each other)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;Vampires are not naturally cooperative creatures.  It's not in their nature.
&nbsp;Every other vampire is a rival for the next meal.  In fact, the ideal
&nbsp;situation for a vampire is a world in which every other vampire has been
&nbsp;killed off and no one seriously believes in vampires anymore.  They are by
&nbsp;nature as cooperative as sharks.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Vampyres are just the same, the only real difference being that they can't
&nbsp;spell properly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Carpe Jugulum, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 338
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;"Be resolute, my dear," said the Count.  "Remember--that which does not
&nbsp;kill us can only make us stronger."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And that which /does/ kill us leaves us /dead/!" snarled Lacrimosa.  "You
&nbsp;saw what happened to the others!  /You/ got your fingers burned!."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Carpe Jugulum, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title The Fifth Elephant (9)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;You did something because it had always been done,
&nbsp;and the explanation was "but we've always done it this way."
&nbsp;A million dead people can't have been wrong, can they?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Fifth Elephant, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 233 (Harper Torch edition) [this is a footnote]
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;He'd noticed that sex bore some resemblance to cookery:  It fascinated
&nbsp;people, they sometimes bought books full of complicated recipes and
&nbsp;interesting pictures, and sometimes when they were really hungry they
&nbsp;created vast banquets in their imagination--but at the end of the day
&nbsp;they'd settle quite happily for egg and chips, if it was well done and
&nbsp;maybe had a slice of tomato.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Fifth Elephant, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 80-81 (Harper Torch edition) [the pigeon is trained to carry messages]
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;Constable Shoe saluted, but a little testily.  He'd been waiting rather a
&nbsp;long time.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Afternoon, Sergeant--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That's Captain," said Captain Colon.  "See the pip on my shoulder, Reg?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Reg looked closely.  "I thought it was bird doings, Sarge."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That's Captain," said Colon Automatically.  "It's only chalk now because
&nbsp;I ain't got time to get it done properly," he said, "so don't be cheeky."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;[...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;A pigeon chose that diplomatic moment to flutter into the factory and land
&nbsp;on Colon's shoulder, where it promoted him.  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Fifth Elephant, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 187
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;The wheels clattered over the wood of a drawbridge.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;As castles went, this looked as though it could be taken by a small squad
&nbsp;of not very efficient soldiers.  Its builder had not been thinking about
&nbsp;fortifications.  He'd been influenced by fairy tales and possibly by some
&nbsp;of the more ornamental sorts of cake.  It was a castle for looking at.
&nbsp;For defense, putting a blanket over your head might be marginally safer.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The coach stopped in the courtyard.  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Fifth Elephant, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 229
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"What a mess," he said.  "Locked-room mysteries are even worse when they
&nbsp;leave the room unlocked."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Fifth Elephant, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 246 ([sic] 'rules for which he termed "the art..."' seems like it
&nbsp;#         ought to have been 'rules for _what_ he termed "the art..."')
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;He punched the dwarf in the stomach.  This was no time to play by the
&nbsp;Marquis of Fantailler rules.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) The Marquis of Fantailler got into many fights in his youth, most of
&nbsp;them as a result of being known as the Marquis of Fantailler, and wrote
&nbsp;a set of rules for which he termed "the noble art of fisticuffs" which
&nbsp;mostly consisted of a list of places where people weren't allowed to hit
&nbsp;him.  Many people were impressed with his work and later stood with noble
&nbsp;chest outthrust and fists balled in a spirit of manly aggression against
&nbsp;people who hadn't read the Marquis's book but /did/ know how to knock
&nbsp;people senseless with a chair.  The last words of a surprisingly large
&nbsp;number of people were "Stuff the bloody Marquis of Fantailler--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Fifth Elephant, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 251
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;Vimes shivered.  He hadn't realized how warm it had been underground.  Or
&nbsp;what time it was.  There was a dim, a very dim light.  Was this just after
&nbsp;sunset?  What it almost dawn?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The flakes were piling up on his damp clothes, driven by the wind.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Freedom could get you killed.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Shelter ... that was /essential/.  The time of day and a precise location
&nbsp;were of no use to the dead.  They always knew what time it was and where
&nbsp;they were.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Fifth Elephant, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 267
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;GOOD MORNING.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Vimes blinked.  A tall dark-robed figure was now sitting in the boat.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Are you Death?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;IT'S THE SCYTHE, ISN'T IT.  PEOPLE ALWAYS NOTICE THE SCYTHE.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I'm going to die?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;POSSIBLY.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"/Possibly/?  You turn up when people are /possibly/ going to die?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;OH YES.  IT'S QUITE THE NEW THING.  IT'S BECAUSE OF THE UNCERTAINTY
&nbsp;PRINCIPLE.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What's that?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;I'M NOT SURE.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Fifth Elephant, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 288 [sic: missing 4th '.' at end]
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;"Are you in charge of the Watch here?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"No.  That's the job of the Burgermaster."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And who gives him /his/ orders?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Everyone," said Tantony bitterly.  Vimes nodded.  Been there, he thought.
&nbsp;Been there, done that, bought the dublet...
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Fifth Elephant, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title The Truth (8)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;There are, it has been said, two types of people in the world.  There are
&nbsp;those who, when presented with a glass that is exactly half full, say: this
&nbsp;glass is half full.  And then there are those who say: this glass is half
&nbsp;empty.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The world belongs, however, to those who can look at the glass and say:
&nbsp;What's up with this glass?  Excuse me?  Excuse me?  This is my glass?  I
&nbsp;don't think so.  My glass was full!  And it was a bigger glass!  Who's been
&nbsp;pinching my beer?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Truth, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage 1
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;The world is made up of four elements: Earth, Air, Fire and Water.
&nbsp;This is a fact well known even to Corporal Nobbs.  It's also wrong.
&nbsp;There's a fifth element, and generally it's called Surprise.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Truth, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage 2
&nbsp;# pp. 1-2 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;The rumor spread through the city like wildfire (which had quite often
&nbsp;spread through Ankh-Morpork since its citizens had learned the words "fire
&nbsp;insurance").
&nbsp;
&nbsp;/The dwarfs can turn lead into gold.../
&nbsp;
&nbsp;[...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It reached the pointy ears of the dwarfs.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Can we?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Damned if I know.  /I/ can't."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yeah, but if you could, you wouldn't say.  /I/ wouldn't say, if /I/ could.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Can you?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"No."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"/Ah-ha!/"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Truth, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 10 ('mucky' is accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;It would seem quite impossible, on such a mucky night, that there could
&nbsp;have been anyone to witness this scene.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;But there was.  The universe requires everything to be observed, lest it
&nbsp;cease to exist.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Truth, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 19
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;Very occasionally, a frog was removed from the vivarium and put into a
&nbsp;rather smaller jar where it briefly became a very happy frog indeed, and
&nbsp;then went to sleep and woke up in that great big jungle in the sky.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And thus the university got the active ingredient that it made up into
&nbsp;pills and fed to the Bursar, to keep him sane.  At least, /apparently/
&nbsp;sane, because nothing was that simple at good old UU.  In fact he was
&nbsp;incurably insane and hallucinated more or less continually, but by a
&nbsp;remarkable stroke of lateral thinking his fellow wizards had reasoned, in
&nbsp;that case, that the whole business could be sorted out if only they could
&nbsp;find a formula that caused him to /hallucinate that he was completely
&nbsp;sane/.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;This had worked well.  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) This is a very common hallucination, shared by most people.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Truth, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 107-108 ('zis', 'zat', 'vhich', 'Latation' are all accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;"Er ... why do you need to work in a darkroom, though?" he said.  "The imps
&nbsp;don't need it, do they?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ah, zis is for my experiment," said Otto proudly.  "You know zat another
&nbsp;term for an iconographer would be 'photographer'?  From the old word
&nbsp;'photus' in Latation, vhich means--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"To prance around like an idiot ordering everyone about as if you owned the
&nbsp;place," said William.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ah, you know it!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Truth, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 100
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;"Vy are ve stoppink?" said Otto.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That's Sergeant Detritus on the gate," said William.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ah.  A troll.  Very stupid," opined Otto.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"But hard to fool.  I'm afraid we shall have to try the truth."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Vy vill that vork?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"He's a policeman.  The truth usually confuses them.  They don't often
&nbsp;hear it."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Truth, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 290
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;Mr. Tulip raised a trembling hand.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Is this the bit where my whole life passes in front of my eyes?" he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;NO, THAT WAS THE BIT JUST NOW.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Which bit?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;THE BIT, said Death, BETWEEN YOU BEING BORN AND YOU DYING.  NO, THIS...
&nbsp;MR. TULIP, THIS IS YOUR WHOLE LIFE AS IT PASSED BEFORE /OTHER PEOPLE'S/
&nbsp;EYES...
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Truth, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Thief of Time (8)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;"No running with scythes!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Thief of Time, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 24 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;Silver stars weren't awarded frequently, and gold starts happened less
&nbsp;than once a fortnight, and were vied for accordingly.  Right now, Miss
&nbsp;Susan selected a silver star.  Pretty soon Vincent the Keen would have a
&nbsp;galaxy of his very own.  To give him his due, he was quite disinterested
&nbsp;in which kind of star he got.  Quantity, that was what he liked.  Miss
&nbsp;Susan had privately marked him down as Boy Most Likely To Be Killed One
&nbsp;Day By His Wife.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Thief of Time, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 53 ('... with the chorus:', '"Do not act...' are separate paragraphs;
&nbsp;#        'challenger' has been cowed after finding out that the little old
&nbsp;#        man he challenged--for entering the dojo--is actually Lu-Tze)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;As Lobsang followed the ambling Lu-Tze, he heard the dojo master, who like
&nbsp;all teachers never missed an opportunity to drive home a lesson, say:
&nbsp;"Dojo!  What is Rule One?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Even the cowering challenger mumbled along with the chorus:
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Do not act incautiously when confronting a little bald wrinkly smiling
&nbsp;man!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Thief of Time, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 74-75 (the novices didn't know that the little old man known as Sweeper
&nbsp;#            is actually Lu-Tze; see passage 3 regarding Rule One)
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;One day a group of senior novices, for mischief, kicked over the little
&nbsp;shrine that Lu-Tze kept beside his sleeping mat.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Next morning, no sweepers turned up for work.  They stayed in their huts
&nbsp;with the doors barred.  After making inquiries, the abbot, who at that time
&nbsp;was fifty years old again, summoned the three novices to his room.  There
&nbsp;were three brooms leaning against the wall.  He spoke as follows:
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You know that the dreadful Battle of Five Cities did not happen because
&nbsp;the messenger got there in time?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;They did.  You learned this early in your studies.  And they bowed
&nbsp;nervously, because this was the abbot, after all.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And you know then that when the messenger's horse threw a shoe he espied
&nbsp;a man trudging beside the road carrying a small portable forge and pushing
&nbsp;an anvil on a barrow?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;They knew.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And you know that man was Lu-tze?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;They did.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Surely you know that Janda Trapp, Grand Master of /Oki-doki/, /Toro-fu/,
&nbsp;and /Chang-fu/, has only ever yielded to one man?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;They knew.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And you know that man is Lu-Tze?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;They did.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You know the little shrine you kicked over last night?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;They knew.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You know it had an owner?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There was silence.  Then the brightest of the novices looked up at the
&nbsp;abbot in horror, swallowed, picked up one of the three brooms, and walked
&nbsp;out of the room.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The other two were slower of brain and had to follow the story all the way
&nbsp;through to the end.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Then one of them said, "But it was only a sweeper's shrine!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You will take up the brooms and sweep," said the abbot, "and you will
&nbsp;sweep every day, and you will sweep until the day you find Lu-Tze and dare
&nbsp;to say 'Sweeper, it was I who knocked over and scattered your shrine and
&nbsp;now I will in humility accompany you to the dojo on the Tenth Djim, in
&nbsp;order to learn the Right Way.'  Only then, if you are still able, may you
&nbsp;resume your studies here.  Understood?"(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Older monks sometimes complained, but someone would always say:  "Remember
&nbsp;that Lu-Tze's Way is not our Way.  Remember he learned everything by
&nbsp;sweeping unheeded while students were being educated.  Remember, he has
&nbsp;been everywhere and done many things.  Perhaps he is a little... strange,
&nbsp;but remember he walked into a citadel full of armed men and traps and
&nbsp;nevertheless saw to it that the Pash of Muntab choked innocently on a fish
&nbsp;bone.  No monk is better than Lu-Tze at finding the Time and the Place."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Some, who did not know, would say:  "What is this Way that gives him so
&nbsp;much power?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And they were told:  "It is the Way of Mrs. Marietta Cosmopolite, 3 Quirm
&nbsp;Street, Ankh-Morpork, Rooms To Rent Very Reasonable.  No, we don't
&nbsp;understand it, either.  Some subsendential rubbish, apparently."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) And the story continues:  The novice who had protested that it was only
&nbsp;the shrine of a sweeper ran away from the temple; the student who said
&nbsp;nothing remained a sweeper for the rest of his life; and the student who
&nbsp;has seen the inevitable shape of the story went, after much agonizing and
&nbsp;several months of meticulous sweeping, to Lu-Tze and knelt and asked to be
&nbsp;shown the Right Way.  Whereupon the sweeper took him to the dojo of the
&nbsp;Tenth Djim, with its terrible multibladed fighting machines and its
&nbsp;fearsome serrated weapons such as the /clong-clong/ and the /uppsi/.  The
&nbsp;story runs that the sweeper then opened a cupboard at the back of the dojo
&nbsp;and produced a broom and spake thusly:  "One hand /here/ and the other
&nbsp;/here/, understand?  People never get it right.  Use good, even strokes
&nbsp;and let the broom do most of the work.  Never try to sweep up a big pile,
&nbsp;you'll end up sweeping every bit of dust twice.  Use your dustpan wisely,
&nbsp;and remember:  a small brush for the corners."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Thief of Time, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 102 ('coming here':  to the remote mountains where the monks live)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"But did not Wen say that if the truth is anywhere, it is everywhere?" said
&nbsp;Lobsang.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well done.  I see you learned /something/, at least.  But one day it
&nbsp;seemed to me that everyone else had decided that wisdom can only be found a
&nbsp;long way off.  So I went to Ankh-Morpork.  They were all coming here, so it
&nbsp;seemed only fair.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Seeking /enlightenment/?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"No.  The wise man does not seek enlightenment, he waits for it.  So while
&nbsp;I was waiting, it occurred to me that seeking perplexity might be more
&nbsp;fun," said Lu-Tze.  "After all, enlightenment begins where perplexity ends.
&nbsp;And I found perplexity.  And a kind of enlightenment, too.  I had not been
&nbsp;there for five minutes, for example, when some men in an alley tried to
&nbsp;enlighten me of what little I possessed, giving me a valuable lesson in
&nbsp;the ridiculousness of material things."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Thief of Time, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 286 (food in general, and chocolate in particular, has proven to be an
&nbsp;#         effective 'weapon' against Auditors who've taken on human form)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;"Let's get up into Zephyr Street," said Susan.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What is there for us?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Wienrich and Boettcher."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Who are they?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I think the original Herr Wienrich and Frau Boettcher died a long time ago.
&nbsp;But the shop still does very good business," said Susan, darting across the
&nbsp;street.  "We need ammunition."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Lady LeJean caught up.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh.  They make chocolate?" she said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Does a bear poo in the woods?" said Susan and realized her mistake right
&nbsp;away.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Too late.  Lady LeJean looked thoughtful for a moment.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes," she said at last.  "Yes, I believe that most varieties do, indeed,
&nbsp;excrete, as you suggest, at least in the temperate zones, but there are
&nbsp;several that--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I mean to say that, yes, they make chocolate," said Susan.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Teaching small children for any length of time can do this to a
&nbsp;vocabulary.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Thief of Time, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 308
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;Kaos listened to history.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There were new words.  Wizards and philosophers had found Chaos, which is
&nbsp;Kaos with his hair combed and a tie on, and had found in the epitome of
&nbsp;disorder a new order undreamed of.  /There are different kinds of rules./
&nbsp;/From the simple comes the complex, and from the complex comes a different/
&nbsp;/kind of simplicity.  Chaos is order in a mask.../
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Chaos.  Not dark, ancient Kaos, left behind by the evolving universe, but
&nbsp;new, shiny Chaos, dancing in the heart of everything.  The idea was
&nbsp;strangely attractive.  And it was a reason to go on living.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Thief of Time, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 355 (starts mid-paragraph, with a clause about eating in class omitted)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;[...]  Susan [...] took the view that, if there were rules, they applied to
&nbsp;everyone, even her.  Otherwise they were merely tyranny.  But rules were
&nbsp;there to make you think before you broke them.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Thief of Time, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;# The Last Hero has never been released in the U.S. (or anywhere?) as a
&nbsp;# conventional mass market paperback.  The large (roughly 10" by 12")
&nbsp;# trade paperback contains many full page color illustrations and most
&nbsp;# text pages include decorations of varying degrees of elaborateness.
&nbsp;# The actual text is probably only novella length.
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title The Last Hero (7)
&nbsp;# p. 41 (EOS edition)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;Too many people, when listing all the perils to be found in the search
&nbsp;for lost treasure or ancient wisdom, had forgotten to put at the top of
&nbsp;the list 'the man who arrived just before you'.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Last Hero, written by Terry Pratchett, illustrated by Paul Kidby]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 5
&nbsp;# second paragraph is a bit "on the nose" but is too good to leave out
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;The reason for the story was a mix of many things.  There was humanity's
&nbsp;desire to do forbidden deeds merely because they were forbidden.
&nbsp;There was its desire to find new horizons and kill the people who live
&nbsp;beyond them.  There were the mysterious scrolls.  There was the cucumber.
&nbsp;But mostly there was the knowledge that one day, it would all be over.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Ah, well, life goes on,' people say when someone dies.  But from the
&nbsp;point of view of the person who has just died, it doesn't.  It's the
&nbsp;universe that goes on.  Just as the deceased was getting the hang of
&nbsp;everything it's all whisked away, by illness or accident or, in one
&nbsp;case, a cucumber.  Why this has to be is one of the imponderables of
&nbsp;life, in the face of which people either start to pray...
&nbsp;or become really, really angry.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Last Hero, written by Terry Pratchett, illustrated by Paul Kidby]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 19
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;'And they're /heroes/,' said Mr Betteridge of the Guild of Historians.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'And that means, exactly?' said the Patrician, sighing.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'They're good at doing what they want to do.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'But they are also, as I understand it, very old men.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Very old /heroes/,' the historian corrected him.  'That just means
&nbsp;they've had a lot of /experience/ in doing what they want to do.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Lord Vetinari sighed again.  He did not like to live in a world of
&nbsp;heroes.  You had civilisation, such as it was, and you had heroes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Last Hero, written by Terry Pratchett, illustrated by Paul Kidby]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 25
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;They were, all of them, old men.  Their background conversation was
&nbsp;a litany of complaints about feet, stomachs and backs.  They moved
&nbsp;slowly.  But they had a /look/ about them.  It was in their eyes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Their eyes said that wherever it was, they had been there.  Whatever
&nbsp;it was, they had done it, sometimes more than once.  But they would
&nbsp;never, ever, /buy/ the T-shirt.  And they /did/ know the meaning of
&nbsp;the word 'fear'.  It was something that happened to other people.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Last Hero, written by Terry Pratchett, illustrated by Paul Kidby]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 97
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;Captain Carrot saluted.  'Force is always the last resort, sir,' he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'I believe for Cohen it's the first choice,' said Lord Vetinari.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'He's not too bad if you don't come up behind him suddenly,' said Rincewind.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Ah, there is the voice of our mission specialist,' said the Patrician.
&nbsp;'I just hope--  What is that on your badge, Captain Carrot?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Mission motto, sir,' said Carrot cheerfully.  '/Morituri Nolumus Mori/.
&nbsp;Rincewind suggested it.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'I imagine he did,' said Lord Vetinari, observing the wizard coldly.
&nbsp;'And would you care to give us a colloquial translation, Mr Rincewind?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Er...' Rincewind hesitated, but there really was no escape.  'Er...
&nbsp;roughly speaking, it means, "We who are about to die don't want to", sir.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Last Hero, written by Terry Pratchett, illustrated by Paul Kidby]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 125 (near top, then continued half way down)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;'A good wizard, Rincewind,' said the Chair of Indefinite Studies.  'Not
&nbsp;particularly bright, but, frankly, I've never been quite happy with
&nbsp;intelligence.  An overrated talent, in my humble opinion.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Ponder's ears went red.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;[...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Mr Stibbons was right, was he?' said Ridcully, staring at Ponder.  'How
&nbsp;did you work that out so /exactly/, Mr Stibbons?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'I, er...' Ponder felt the eyes of the wizards on him.  'I--' He stopped.
&nbsp;'It was a lucky guess, sir.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The wizards relaxed.  They were extremely uneasy with cleverness, but
&nbsp;lucky guessing was what being a wizard was all about.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Last Hero, written by Terry Pratchett, illustrated by Paul Kidby]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 146
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;Evil Harry looked down and shuffled his feet, his face a battle between
&nbsp;pride and relief.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Good of you to say that, lads,' he mumbled.  'I mean, you know, if it
&nbsp;was up to me I wouldn't do this to yer, but I got a reputation to--'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'I said we /understand/,' said Cohen.  'It's just like with us.  You see
&nbsp;a big hairy thing galloping towards you, you don't stop to think:  Is
&nbsp;this a rare species on the point of extinction?  No, you hack its head
&nbsp;off.  'Cos that's heroing, am I right?  An' /you/ see someone, you
&nbsp;betray 'em, quick as a wink.  'Cos that's villaining.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Last Hero, written by Terry Pratchett, illustrated by Paul Kidby]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;# _The_Amazing_Maurice_and_His_Educated_Rodents_ (sometimes spelled with
&nbsp;# "his" uncapitalized--the book itself uses all uppercase on both the
&nbsp;# cover and the title page so doesn't help resolve which is correct...)
&nbsp;# was the first of six Discworld books marketed for "Young Adults" (at
&nbsp;# least in the US), ages 12 to 16 give or take, so tended to be stocked
&nbsp;# on different shelves from the rest of Discworld in book stores and
&nbsp;# libraries.  In the UK, _The_Amazing_Maurice..._ won the Carnegie Medal
&nbsp;# which is awarded for best children's book of the year.
&nbsp;# (The other Young Adult Discworld books are the five Tiffany Aching ones.)
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;# _The_Amazing_Maurice..._ may well be the most serious Discworld book.
&nbsp;# (Don't worry, it has lots of humor/humour in it....)
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents (10)
&nbsp;# p. 68 (Harperteen edition; _Mr._Bunnsy_Has_an_Adventure_ is a book
&nbsp;#        within the book, and a brief quote is shown at the beginning
&nbsp;#        of each chapter.  This one is from the start of chapter 4.)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;The important thing about adventures, thought Mr. Bunnsy, was that they
&nbsp;shouldn't be so long as to make you miss mealtimes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 9 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;"Stealing from a thief isn't stealing, 'cos it cancels out."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 11-12 (rats became intelligent from eating wizards' trash just outside
&nbsp;#            one of the walls of Unseen University; Maurice insists that he
&nbsp;#            never did that, implying that he'd eaten some of the rats instead
&nbsp;#            [never explicitly stated] before he became intelligent himself)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;They said he was amazing.  The Amazing Maurice, they said.  He'd never
&nbsp;meant to be amazing.  It just happened.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He'd realized something was odd that day, just after lunch, when he'd
&nbsp;looked into a reflection in a puddle and thought, /that's me/.  He'd never
&nbsp;been /aware/ of himself before.  Of course it was hard to remember /how/
&nbsp;he'd thought before becoming amazing.  It seemed to him that his mind had
&nbsp;been just a kind of soup.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And then there had been the rats, who lived under the rubbish heap in one
&nbsp;corner of his territory.  He'd realized there was something educated
&nbsp;about the rats when he'd jumped on one and it'd said, "Can we talk about
&nbsp;this?" and part of his amazing new brain had told him you couldn't eat
&nbsp;someone who could talk.  At least, not until you'd heard what it'd got
&nbsp;to say.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 32 (Maurice the cat, Keith the human boy, and the intelligent rat clan are
&nbsp;#        in the town of Bad Blintz; people are queuing up for rationed food)
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;"Shall we line up too?" asked the kid.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I shouldn't think so," said Maurice carefully.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Why not?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"See those men on the door?  They look like the Watch.  They've got big
&nbsp;truncheons.  And everyone's showing them a bit of paper as they go past.
&nbsp;I don't like the look of that," said Maurice.  "That looks like
&nbsp;/government/ to me."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"We haven't done anything wrong," said the kid.  "Not here, anyway."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You never know, with governments," said Maurice.  "Just stay here kid.
&nbsp;I'll take a look."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 52 (speaker is Darktan, the traps expert; "Number One" platoon seems
&nbsp;#        like an obvious joke here--missed deliberately or accidentally?)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"All right, Number Three platoon, you're on widdling duty," he said.  "Go
&nbsp;and have a good drink."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 110 (opening quote for chapter 6)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;There were big adventures and small adventures, Mr. Bunnsy knew.  You
&nbsp;didn't get told what size they were going to be before you started.
&nbsp;Sometimes you could have a big adventure even when you were standing
&nbsp;still.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 127-128 (searching for a secret door...)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;Malicia leaned against the wall with incredible nonchalance.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There was not a click.  A panel in the floor did not slide back.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Probably the wrong place," she said.  "I'll just rest my arm innocently
&nbsp;on this coat hook."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;A sudden door in the wall completely failed to happen.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Of course, it'd help if there was an ornate candlestick," said Malicia.
&nbsp;"They're always a surefire secret-passage lever.  Every adventurer knows
&nbsp;that."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"There isn't a candlestick," said Maurice.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I know.  Some people totally fail to have any /idea/ of how to design a
&nbsp;proper secret passage," said Malicia.  She leaned against another piece
&nbsp;of wall, which had no affect whatsoever.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I don't think you'll find it that way," said Keith, who was carefully
&nbsp;examining a trap.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh?  Won't I?" said Malicia.  "Well at least I'm being /constructive/
&nbsp;about things!  Where would you look, if you're such an expert?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Why is there a rat hole in a rat catcher's shed?" said Keith.  "It smells
&nbsp;of dead rats and wet dogs and poison.  I wouldn't come near this place,
&nbsp;if I was a rat."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Malicia glared at him.  Then her face wrapped itself in an expression of
&nbsp;acute concentration, as if she was trying out several ideas in her head.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ye-es," she said.  "That usually works, in stories.  It's often the stupid
&nbsp;person who comes up with the good idea by accident."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;She crouched down and peered into the hole.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"There's a sort of little lever," she said.  "I'll just give it a little
&nbsp;push...."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There was a /clonk/ under the floor, part of it swung back, and Keith
&nbsp;dropped out of sight.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh, yes," said Malicia.  "I thought something like that would probably
&nbsp;happen."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 231 (passage ends mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;He had to admit that he was cleverer at plans than at underground
&nbsp;navigation.  He wasn't exactly lost, because cats never get lost.  He
&nbsp;merely didn't know where everything else was.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 298-300 (Keith has challanged the professional rat piper and offered
&nbsp;#              to rid the town of rats for a much lower price; Sardines is
&nbsp;#              one of the Educated Rodents, known for dancing all the time;
&nbsp;#              "hwun/two/three/four/" is run-together "one /two/ three /four/";
&nbsp;#              quite a long passage primarily for the 'a bit more grimy' gag)
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;[...]
&nbsp;"But first I shall need to borrow a pipe," Keith went on.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You haven't got one?" asked the mayor.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It got broken."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Corporal Knopf nudged the mayor.  "I've got a trombone from when I was in
&nbsp;the army," he said.  "It won't take a moment to get it."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The rat piper burst out laughing.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Doesn't that count?" asked the mayor, as Corporal Knopf hurried off.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What?  A trombone for charming rats?  No, no, let him try.  Can't blame
&nbsp;a kid for trying.  Good with a trombone, are you?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I don't know," said Keith.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What do you mean, you don't know?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I meant I've never played one.  I'd be a lot happier with a flute,
&nbsp;trumpet, piccolo, cornet, or Lancre bagpipe, but I've seen people playing
&nbsp;the trombone, and it doesn't look too difficult.  It's only an overgrown
&nbsp;trumpet, really."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Hah!" said the piper.  "This I'd like to see--but not hear."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The Watch came running back, rubbing a battered trombone with his sleave
&nbsp;and therefore making it just a bit more grimy.  Keith took it, wiped the
&nbsp;mouthpiece, put it to his mouth, moved the slide a few times, and then
&nbsp;blew one long note.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Seems to work," he said.  "I expect I can learn as I go along."  He gave
&nbsp;the rat piper a brief smile.  "Do you want to go first?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You won't charm one rat with that mess, kid," said the piper, "but I'm
&nbsp;glad I'm here to see you try."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Keith gave him a smile again, took a breath, and played.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There was a tune there.  The instrument squeaked and wheezed, because
&nbsp;Corporal Knopf had occasionally used the thing as a hammer, but there was
&nbsp;a tune, quite fast, almost jaunty.  You could tap your feet to it.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Someone tapped his feet to it.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Sardines emerged from a crack in a nearby wall, going "hwun/two/three/four/"
&nbsp;under his breath.  The crowd watched him dance ferociously across the
&nbsp;cobbles until he disappeared into a drain.  Then they broke into applause.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The piper looked at Keith.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Did that one have a /hat/ on?" he asked.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I didn't notice," said Keith.  "Your go."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 309-310
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;"You really /can/ talk?  You can think?" asked the mayor.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Darktan looked up at him.  It had been a long night.  He didn't want to
&nbsp;remember any of it.  And now it was going to be a longer, harder day.
&nbsp;He took a deep breath.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Here's what I suggest," he said.  "You pretend that rats can think, and
&nbsp;I'll promise to pretend that humans can think, too."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Night Watch (7)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;When Mister Safety Catch Is Not On, Mister Crossbow Is Not Your Friend.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Night Watch, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 2-4 (Harper Torch edition; omitted section describes how the student
&nbsp;#          assassin, who has fallen off a booby-trapped shed roof into a
&nbsp;#          cesspit, is on an assignment to try to get into position to
&nbsp;#          target Vimes but not actually attack or try to kill him)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;"You're a bit young to be sent on this contract, aren't you?" said Vimes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Not a contract, sir," said Jocasta, still paddling.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Come now, Miss Wiggs.  The price on my head is at least--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"The Guild council put it in abeyance, sir," said the patient swimmer.
&nbsp;"You're off the register.  They're not accepting contracts on you at
&nbsp;present."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;[...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And quite a few of the traps drop you into something deadly," said Vimes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Lucky for me that I fell into this one, eh, sir?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh, that one's deadly too," said Vimes.  "/Eventually/ deadly."  He
&nbsp;sighed.  He really wanted to discourage this sort of thing but... they'd
&nbsp;put him off the register?  It wasn't that he'd /liked/ being shot at by
&nbsp;hooded figures in the temporary employ of his many and varied enemies,
&nbsp;but he'd always looked at it as some kind of vote of confidence.  It
&nbsp;showed that he was annoying the rich and arrogant people who ought to be
&nbsp;annoyed.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Besides, the Assassin's Guild was easy to outwit.  They had strict rules,
&nbsp;which they followed quite honorably, and this was fine by Vimes, who, in
&nbsp;certain practical matters, had no rules whatever.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Off the register, eh?  The only other person not on it anymore, it was
&nbsp;rumored, was Lord Vetinari, the Patrician.  The Assassins understood the
&nbsp;political game in the city better than anyone, and if they took you off
&nbsp;the register it was because they felt that your departure would not only
&nbsp;spoil the game but also smash the board.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Night Watch, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 12 (some trainee Watchmen have been taught a marching/running song by
&nbsp;#        Sergeant Detritus, a troll; trolls count "one, two, many, lots"
&nbsp;#        and evidently can't go any higher)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;    "/Now we sing dis stupid song!/
&nbsp;    /Sing it as we run along!/
&nbsp;    /Why we sing dis we don't know!/
&nbsp;    /We can't make der words rhyme prop'ly!/"
&nbsp;    "Sound off!"
&nbsp;        "/One!  Two!/"
&nbsp;    "Sound off!"
&nbsp;        "/Many!  Lots!/"
&nbsp;    "Sound off!"
&nbsp;        "/Er... what?/"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Night Watch, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 137
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;Everyone was guilty of something.  Vimes knew that.  Every copper knew it.
&nbsp;That was how you maintained your authority--everyone, talking to a copper,
&nbsp;was secretly afraid you could see their guilty secret written on their
&nbsp;forehead.  You couldn't, of course.  But neither were you supposed to drag
&nbsp;someone off the street and smash their fingers with a hammer until they
&nbsp;told you what it was.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Night Watch, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 138 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;[...]  Doctor Lawn was wearing a face mask and holding a pair of very long
&nbsp;tweezers in his hand.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I'm going out," said Vimes.  "Trouble?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Not too bad.  Slidey Harris was unlucky at cards last night, that's all.
&nbsp;Played the ace of hearts."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That's an unlucky card?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It is if Big Tony knows he didn't deal it to you.  But I'll soon have it
&nbsp;removed.  [...]"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Night Watch, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 141 ('it' is a piece of paper concealed inside one of CMOT Dibbler's
&nbsp;#         "meat" pies, partly eaten by Vimes but intended for someone else)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;He unfolded it.  In smudged pencil, but still readable, it read:
&nbsp;/Morphic Street, 9 o'clock tonight.  Password: Swordfish/.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Swordfish?  Every password was "swordfish"!  Whenever anyone tried to
&nbsp;think of a word that no one would ever guess, they /always/ chose
&nbsp;"swordfish."  It was just one of those strange quirks of the human mind.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Night Watch, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 345 (text actually has "worth more *that* AM$10,000"--obviously a typo)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;There were rules.  When you had a Guild of Assassins, there had to be rules
&nbsp;that everyone knew and that were never, ever broken.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;An Assassin, a real Assassin, had to look like one--black clothes, hood,
&nbsp;boots, and all.  If they could wear any clothes, any disguise, then what
&nbsp;could anyone do but spend all day sitting in a small room with a loaded
&nbsp;crossbow pointed at the door?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And they couldn't kill a man incapable of defending himself (although a
&nbsp;man worth more than AM$10,000 a year was considered automatically capable
&nbsp;of defending himself or at least of employing people who were).
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And they had to give the target a chance.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Sometimes, admittedly, for a given value of "never."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Night Watch, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title The Wee Free Men (9)
&nbsp;# p. 100 (HarperTempest edition; quin==queen;
&nbsp;#         this rallying cry occurs multiple times; p. 167 has "/Nae quin!
&nbsp;#         Nae king!  Nae laird!  Nae master!  We willna be fooled again!/",
&nbsp;#         p. 193 has same except that King and Quin are reversed and
&nbsp;#         capitalized, p. 287 has "/Nae Quin!  Nae Laird!  Wee Fee Men!/")
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;"Nac Mac Feegle!  The Wee Free Men!  Nae king!  Nae quin!  Nae laird!  Nae
&nbsp;master!  /We willna be fooled again!/"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Wee Free Men, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 18-19 (unlike in Lancre and its surrounding Ramtop mountains, witches
&nbsp;#           are unwelcome in the Chalk; the first paragraph continues with
&nbsp;#           mention of things Miss Tick doesn't carry, then things she does,
&nbsp;#           ending with 'and, of course, a lucky charm.')
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;Miss Tick did not look like a witch.  Most witches don't, at least the ones
&nbsp;who wander from place to place.  Looking like a witch can be dangerous when
&nbsp;you walk among the uneducated.  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Everyone in the country carried lucky charms, and Miss Tick had worked out
&nbsp;that if you didn't have one, people would suspect that you /were/ a witch.
&nbsp;You had to be a bit cunning to be a witch.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Miss Tick did have a pointy hat, but it was a stealth hat and pointed only
&nbsp;when she wanted it to.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The one thing in her bag that might have made anyone suspicious was a very
&nbsp;small, grubby booklet entitled /An Introduction to Escapology, by the
&nbsp;Great Williamson/.  If one of the risks of your job is being thrown into a
&nbsp;pond with your hands tied together, then the ability to swim thirty yards
&nbsp;underwater, fully clothed, plus the ability to lurk under the weeds
&nbsp;breathing air through a hollow reed, count as nothing if you aren't also
&nbsp;/amazingly/ good at knots.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Wee Free Men, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 29-30 ('pune' is accurate; a mispronunciation of 'pun', as indicated
&nbsp;#            by the footnote; one wonders how a nine year old farm girl knows
&nbsp;#            how to pronounce 'mystique'...)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;"My name," she said at last, "is Miss Tick.  And I /am/ a witch.  It's a
&nbsp;good name for a witch, of course."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You mean blood-sucking parasite?" said Tiffany, wrinkling her forehead.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I'm sorry," said Miss Tick, coldly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ticks," said Tiffany.  "Sheep get them.  But if you use turpentine--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I /meant/ that it /sounds/ like 'mystic,'" said Miss Tick.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh, you mean a pune, or play on words," said Tiffany.(1)  "In that case it
&nbsp;would be even better if you were Miss /Teak/, a dense foreign wood, because
&nbsp;that would sound like 'mystique,' or you could be Miss Take, which would--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I can see we're going to get on like a house on fire," said Miss Tick.
&nbsp;"There may be no survivors."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Tiffany had read lots of words in the dictionary that she'd never heard
&nbsp;spoken, so she had to guess at how they were pronounced.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Wee Free Men, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 64-65
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;There was a lot of mist around, but a few stars were visible overhead and
&nbsp;there was a gibbous moon in the sky.  Tiffany knew it was gibbous because
&nbsp;she'd read in the Almanack that /gibbous/ means what the moon looked like
&nbsp;when it was just a bit fatter than half full, and so she made a point of
&nbsp;paying attention to it around those times just so that she could say to
&nbsp;herself, "Ah, I see the moon's very gibbous tonight."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It's possible that this tells you more about Tiffany than she would want
&nbsp;you to know.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Wee Free Men, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 159 (bigjob: pictsie term for human; 'heid', 'dinna', 'canna', 'noo',
&nbsp;#         'aroound', and 'Tiffan' are accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"[...]  Ye have the First Sight and the Second Thoughts, just like yer
&nbsp;Granny.  That's rare in a bigjob."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Don't you mean Second Sight?" Tiffany asked.  "Like people who can see
&nbsp;ghosts and stuff?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ach, no.  That's typical bigjob thinking.  /First Sight/ is when you can
&nbsp;see what's really there, not what your heid tells you /ought/ to be there.
&nbsp;Ye saw Jenny, ye saw the horseman, ye saw them as real thingies.  Second
&nbsp;sight is dull sight, it's seeing only what you expect to see.  Most bigjobs
&nbsp;ha' that.  Listen to me, because I'm fadin' noo and there's a lot you dinna
&nbsp;ken.  Ye think this is the whole world?  That is a good thought for sheep
&nbsp;and mortals who dinna open their eyes.  Because in truth there are more
&nbsp;worlds than stars in the sky.  Understand?  They are everywhere, big and
&nbsp;small, close as your skin.  They are /everywhere/.  Some ye can see an'
&nbsp;some ye canna, but there are doors, Tiffan.  They might be a hill or a
&nbsp;tree or a stone or a turn in the road, or they might e'en be a thought in
&nbsp;yer heid, but they are there, all aroound ye.  You'll have to learn to see
&nbsp;'em, because you walk among them and dinna know it.  And some of them...
&nbsp;is poisonous."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Wee Free Men, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 193 (source text is all italics here; passage continues with the speakers
&nbsp;#         getting in synch and shouting the cry from passage 1)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;"They can tak' oour lives but they canna tak' oour troousers!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ye'll tak' the high road an' I'll tak' yer wallet!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"There can only be one t'ousand!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ach, stick it up yer trakkans!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Wee Free Men, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 227 (also all italics; end of a reminiscence of Granny Aching by Tiffany)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;"Them as can do has to do for them as can't.  And someone has to speak up
&nbsp;for them as has no voices."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Wee Free Men, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 287 (like passage 6, this ties back to passage 1; the cry there is
&nbsp;#         one of the things Tiffany hears)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;Tiffany might have been the only person, in all the worlds that there are,
&nbsp;to be happy to hear the sound of the Nac Mac Feegle.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;They poured out of the smashed nut.  Some were still wearing bow ties.
&nbsp;Some were back in their kilts.  But they were all in a fighting mood and,
&nbsp;to save time, were fighting with one another to get up to speed.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Wee Free Men, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 313-314 (passage starts mid-paragraph; 'mebbe' and 'oour' are accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;"[...]  Can you bring Wentworth?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Aye."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And you won't get lost or--or drunk or anything?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Rob Anybody looked offended.  "We ne'er get lost!" he said.  "We always ken
&nbsp;where we are!  It's just sometimes mebbe we aren't sure where everything
&nbsp;else is, but it's no' our fault if /everything else/ gets lost!  The Nac
&nbsp;Mac Feegle never get lost!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What about drunk?" said Tiffany, dragging Roland toward the lighthouse.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"We've ne'er been lost in oour lives!  Is that no' the case, lads?" said
&nbsp;Rob Anybody.  There was a murmur of resentful agreement.  "The words /lost/
&nbsp;and /Nac Mac Feegle/ shouldna turn up in the same sentence!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And drunk?" said Tiffany again, laying Roland down on the beach.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Gettin' lost is something that happens to other people!" declared Rob
&nbsp;Anybody.  "I want to make that point perfectly clear!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Wee Free Men, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Monstrous Regiment (8)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;'How can you protect yourself by carrying a sword if you don't know how
&nbsp;to use it?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Not me, sir.  Other people.  They see the sword and don't attack me,'
&nbsp;said Maladict patiently.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Yes, but if they did, lad, you wouldn't be any good with it,' said the
&nbsp;sergeant.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'No, sir.  I'd probably settle for just ripping their heads off, sir.
&nbsp;That's what I mean by protection, sir.  Theirs, not mine.  And I'd get
&nbsp;hell from the League if I did that, sir.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Monstrous Regiment, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 6 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;/There was always a war./  Usually they were border disputes, the national
&nbsp;equivalent of complaining that the neighbor was letting their hedge grow
&nbsp;too long.  Sometimes they were bigger.  Borogravia was a peace-loving
&nbsp;country in the midst of treacherous, devious, warlike enemies.  They had
&nbsp;to be treacherous, devious, and warlike, otherwise we wouldn't be fighting
&nbsp;them, eh?  There was always a war.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Monstrous Regiment, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 115-116 (plural 'forests' is odd but accurate [1st sentence];
&nbsp;#              so is 'knew' which ought to be 'known' [4th paragraph];
&nbsp;#              9 '0's and 7 '0's are accurate too)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;A pigeon rose over the forests, banked slightly, and headed straight for
&nbsp;the valley of the Kneck.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Even from here, the black stone bulk of the Keep was visible, rising above
&nbsp;the sea of trees.  The pigeon sped on, one spark of purpose in the fresh
&nbsp;new morning--
&nbsp;
&nbsp;--and squawked as darkness dropped from the sky, gripping it in talons of
&nbsp;steel.  Buzzard and pigeon tumbled for a moment, and then the buzzard
&nbsp;gained a little height and flapped onwards.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The pigeon thought: 000000000.  But had it been more capable of coherent
&nbsp;thought, and knew something about how birds of prey caught pigeons,(1) it
&nbsp;might have wondered why it was being gripped so... kindly.  It was being
&nbsp;held, not squeezed.  As it was, all it could think was 0000000!
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) And allowing for the fact that all pigeons who knew how birds of prey
&nbsp;catch pigeons are dead, and therefore capable of slightly less thought
&nbsp;than a living pigeon.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Monstrous Regiment, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 131
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;"All the food's been taken but there's carrots and parsnips in a little
&nbsp;garden down the hill a bit," Shufti said as they walked away.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"It'd be s-stealing from the dead," said Wazzer.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, if they object they can hold on, can't they?" said Shufti.  "They're
&nbsp;underground already!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Monstrous Regiment, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 160
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"And there you have it, Sergeant Towering," said the lieutenant, turning
&nbsp;to the prisoner.  "Of course, we all know there is some atrocious behavior
&nbsp;in times of war, but it is not the sort of thing we would expect of a
&nbsp;royal prince.(1)  If we are to be pursued because a gallant young soldier
&nbsp;prevented matters from becoming even more disgusting, then so be it."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Lieutenant Blouse read only the more technical history books.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Monstrous Regiment, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 176 (fire: almost certainly to make tea)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;There are three things a soldier wants to do when there's a respite on the
&nbsp;road.  One involves lighting a cigarette, one involves lighting a fire,
&nbsp;and the other involves no flames at all but does, generally, require a
&nbsp;tree.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Technically, a tree is not required, but seems to be insisted upon for
&nbsp;reasons of style.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Monstrous Regiment, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 179 ('humor': American spelling is accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;Maladict dropped his crossbow, which fired straight up into the air,(1)
&nbsp;and sat down with his head in his hands.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) And failed to hit anything, especially a duck.  This is so unusual
&nbsp;in situations like this that it must be reported under the new humor
&nbsp;regulations.  If it had hit a duck, which quacked and landed on somebody's
&nbsp;head, this would, of course, have been very droll and would certainly have
&nbsp;been reported.  Instead, the arrow drifted in the breeze a little on the
&nbsp;way and landed in an oak tree some thirty feet away, where it missed a
&nbsp;squirrel.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Monstrous Regiment, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 284 (soldiers disguised as washerwomen in order to sneak into an
&nbsp;#         enemy-controlled castle have been put to work doing the laundry)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;"Look at this, will you?" said Shufti, waving a sodden pair of men's long
&nbsp;pants at her.  "They keep putting the colors in with the whites."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, so what?  These are /enemy/ long johns," said Polly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes, but there's such a thing as doing it properly!  Look, they put in
&nbsp;this red pair and all the others are going pink."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And?  I used to love pink when I was about seven."(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"But pale pink?  On a man?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Polly looked at the next tub for a moment and patted Shufti on the shoulder.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes.  It is /very/ pale, isn't it?  You'd better find a couple more red
&nbsp;items," she said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"But that'll make it even worse--" Shufti began.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That was an /order/, soldier," Polly whispered in her ear.  "And add some
&nbsp;starch."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"How much?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"All you can find."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) It is an established fact that, despite everything society can do,
&nbsp;girls of seven are magnetically attracted to the color pink.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Monstrous Regiment, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title A Hat Full of Sky (11)
&nbsp;# p. 405 (HarperTempest edition)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;Why do you go away?  So that you can come back.  So that you can see the
&nbsp;place you came from with new eyes and extra colors.  And the people there
&nbsp;see you differently, too.  Coming back to where you started is not the
&nbsp;same as never leaving.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [A Hat Full of Sky, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 11-12
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;Miss Tick was a sort of witch finder.  That seemed to be how witchcraft
&nbsp;worked.  Some witches kept a magical lookout for girls who showed promise,
&nbsp;and found them an older witch to help them along.  They didn't teach you
&nbsp;how to do it.  They taught you how to know what you were doing.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Witches were a bit like cats.  They didn't much like one another's company,
&nbsp;but they /did/ like to know where all the other witches were, just in case
&nbsp;they needed them.  And what you might need them for was to tell you, as a
&nbsp;friend, that you were beginning to cackle.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [A Hat Full of Sky, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 31
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;"Oh," said Miss Tick.  But because she was a teacher as well as a witch,
&nbsp;and probably couldn't help herself, she added, "The funny thing is, of
&nbsp;course, that officially there is no such thing as a white horse.  They're
&nbsp;called gray."(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) She had to say that because she was a witch and a teacher, and that's
&nbsp;a terrible combination.  They want things to be /right/.  They like things
&nbsp;to be /correct/.  If you want to upset a witch, you don't have to mess
&nbsp;around with charms and spells--you just have to put her in a room with a
&nbsp;picture that's hung slightly crooked and watch her squirm.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [A Hat Full of Sky, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 51
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;"Oh," she said.  "It's like cat's cradle."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You've played that, have you?" said Miss Tick vaguely, still
&nbsp;concentrating.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I can do all the common shapes," said Tiffany.  "The Jewels and the
&nbsp;Cradle and the House and the Flock and the Three Old Ladies, One With a
&nbsp;Squint, Carrying the Bucket of Fish to Market When They Meet the Donkey,
&nbsp;although you need two people for that one, and I only ever did it once,
&nbsp;and Betsy Tupper scratched her nose at the wrong moment and I had to get
&nbsp;some scissors to to cut her loose..."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [A Hat Full of Sky, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 106 (passage starts mid-paragraph; 'doon' is accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"[...]  It's a bad case o' the thinkin' he's caught, missus.  When a man
&nbsp;starts messin' wi' the readin' and the writin', then he'll come doon with
&nbsp;a dose o' the thinkin' soon enough.  I'll fetch some o' the lads and we'll
&nbsp;hold his head under water until he stops doin' it--'tis the only cure.  It
&nbsp;can kill a man, the thinkin'."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [A Hat Full of Sky, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 107 ('braked', 'Polis'men', 'dinna' all accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;"I never braked my word yet," said Rob.  "Except to Polis'men and other o'
&nbsp;that kidney, ye ken, and they dinna count."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [A Hat Full of Sky, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 111 (passage starts mid-paragraph; 'land o' the living': the Nac Mac
&nbsp;#         Feegle believe that they're dead and are on Discworld because it
&nbsp;#         is heaven, also that if they die on Discworld they'll be reborn
&nbsp;#         on their "real world"; 'big wee hag': Tiffany, apprentice witch
&nbsp;#	  [big: she's human, wee: she's still a child, hag: she's a witch])
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;"[...]  Now lads, ye ken all about hivers.  They cannae be killed!  But
&nbsp;'tis oor duty to save the big wee hag, so this is, like, a sooey-side
&nbsp;mission and ye'll probably all end up back in the land o' the living
&nbsp;doin' a borin' wee job.  So... I'm askin' for volunteers!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Every Feegle over the age of four automatically put his hand up.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh, come /on/," said Rob.  "You canna /all/ come!  Look, I'll tak'...
&nbsp;Daft Wullie, Big Yan, and you... Awf'ly Wee Billy Bigchin.  An' I'm takin'
&nbsp;no weans, so if yez under three inches high, ye're not comin'!  Except
&nbsp;for ye, o' course, Awf'ly Wee Billy.  As for the rest of youse, we'll
&nbsp;settle this the traditional Feegle way.  I'll tak' the last fifty men
&nbsp;still standing!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He beckoned the chosen three to a place in the corner of the mound while
&nbsp;the rest of the crowd squared up cheerfully.  A Feegle liked to face
&nbsp;enormous odds all by himself, because it meant you didn't have to look
&nbsp;where you were hitting.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [A Hat Full of Sky, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 114 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;[...]  It was a mad, desperate plan, which was very dangerous and risky
&nbsp;and would require tremendous strength and bravery to make it work.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Put like that, they agreed to it instantly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [A Hat Full of Sky, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 225 (last paragraph continues--they didn't understand the contents
&nbsp;#         since most pictsies can't read)
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;"Oh, aye?" he said.  "We looked at her diary loads o' times.  Nae harm
&nbsp;done."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You /looked/ at her /diary/?" said Miss Level, horrified.  "Why?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Really, she though later, she should have expected the answer.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Cuz it wuz locked," said Daft Wullie.  "If she didna want anyone tae look
&nbsp;at it, why'd she keep it at the back o' her sock drawer?  [...]"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [A Hat Full of Sky, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 240 (passage starts mid-paragraph; 'frannit' is accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;"[...]  All we need tae do is frannit a wheelstone on it and it'll tak' us
&nbsp;right where she is."(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) If anyone knew what this meant, they'd know a lot more about the Nac
&nbsp;Mac Feegle's way of traveling.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [A Hat Full of Sky, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 351 (the hiver's dialog is telepathic--internal would be more
&nbsp;#         accurate--and occurs in italics without quote marks)
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;Tiffany took a deep breath.  This was about words, and she knew about
&nbsp;words.  "Here is a story to believe," she said.  "Once we were blobs in
&nbsp;the sea, and then fishes, and then lizards and rats, and then monkeys,
&nbsp;and hundreds of things in between.  This hand was once a fin, this hand
&nbsp;once had claws!  In my human mouth I have the pointy teeth of a wolf and
&nbsp;the chisel teeth of a rabbit and the grinding teeth of a cow!  Our blood
&nbsp;is as salty as the sea we used to live in!  When we're frightened, the
&nbsp;hair on our skin stands up, just like it did when we had fur.  We /are/
&nbsp;history!  Everything we've ever been on the way to becoming us, we still
&nbsp;are.  Would you like to hear the rest of the story?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;/Tell us/, said the hiver.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I'm made up of the memories of my parents and grandparents, all my
&nbsp;ancestors.  They're in the way I look, in the color of my hair.  And I'm
&nbsp;made up of everyone I've ever met who's changed the way I think.  So who
&nbsp;is 'me'?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [A Hat Full of Sky, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Going Postal (13)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;What was magic, after all, but something that happened at the snap of
&nbsp;a finger?  Where was the magic in that?  It was mumbled words and weird
&nbsp;drawings in old books and in the wrong hands it was dangerous as hell,
&nbsp;but not one half as dangerous as it could be in the right hands.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 5 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;They say that the prospect of being hanged in the morning concentrates
&nbsp;a man's mind wonderfully; unfortunately, what the mind inevitably
&nbsp;concentrates on is that, in the morning, it will be in a body that is
&nbsp;going to be hanged.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 18
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;There is a saying, "You can't fool an honest man," which is much quoted
&nbsp;by people who make a profitable living by fooling honest men.  Moist
&nbsp;never tried it, knowingly anyway.  If you did fool an honest man, he
&nbsp;tended to complain to the local Watch, and these days they were harder
&nbsp;to buy off.  Fooling dishonest men was a lot safer, and somehow, more
&nbsp;sporting.  And, of course, there were so many more of them.  You hardly
&nbsp;had to aim.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 47 (passage starts mid-paragraph;
&nbsp;#        italics because it's Moist von Lipwig's internal monolog)
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;/What kind of man would put a known criminal in charge of a major branch
&nbsp;of government?  Apart from, say, the average voter./
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 137
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;Now he could see the mysterious order clearly.  They were robed, of course,
&nbsp;because you couldn't have a secret order without robes.  They had pushed
&nbsp;the hoods back now, and each man(1) was wearing a peaked cap with a bird
&nbsp;skeleton wired to it.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Women are always significantly underrepresented in secret orders.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 184 ('Tubso' and 'Bissonomy' are accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;Just below the dome, staring down from their niches, were statues of the
&nbsp;Virtues:  Patience, Chastity, Silence, Charity, Hope, Tubso, Bissonomy,(1)
&nbsp;and Fortitude.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Many cultures practice neither of these in the hustle and bustle of
&nbsp;the modern world, because no one can remember what they are.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 249-250 (Moist and Miss Dearheart are in a fancy restaurant)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;She froze, staring over his shoulder.  He saw her right hand scrabble
&nbsp;frantically among the cutlery and grab a knife.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That bastard has just walked into the place!" she hissed.  "Reacher Gilt!
&nbsp;I'll just kill him and join you for the pudding..."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You can't do that!" hissed Moist.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh?  Why not?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You're using the wrong knife!  That's for the fish!  You'll get into
&nbsp;trouble!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;She glared at him, but her hand relaxed, and something like a smile
&nbsp;appeared on her face.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"They don't have a knife for stabbing rich, murdering bastards?" she said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"They bring it to the table when you order one," said Moist urgently.
&nbsp;"Look, this isn't the Drum, they don't just throw the body into the river!
&nbsp;They'll call the Watch!  Get a grip.  Not on a knife!  And get ready to
&nbsp;run."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Why?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Because I forged his signature on Grand Trunk notepaper to get us in
&nbsp;here, that's why."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp 260-261 (Mr. Groat: elderly postal employee recently attacked in
&nbsp;#             the palacial but severely dilapidated post office;
&nbsp;#             "his imagination": Moist's; "him": Mr. Groat; "he": Moist)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;The vision of Mr. Groat's chest kept bumping insistently against his
&nbsp;imagination.  It looked as though something with claws had taken a swipe
&nbsp;at him, and only the thick uniform coat prevented him from being opened
&nbsp;like a clam.  But that didn't sound like a vampire.  They weren't messy
&nbsp;like that.  It was a waste of good food.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Nevertheless, he picked up a piece of smashed chair.  It had splintered
&nbsp;nicely.  And the nice thing about a stake through the heart was that it
&nbsp;also worked on non-vampires.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 262 (Stanley, a young postal employee who collects pins, recently
&nbsp;#         fought off /something/ using a bag of pins as a weapon)
&nbsp;#         [this passage doesn't have a very satisfactory ending...]
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;You probably couldn't /kill/ a vampire with pins...
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And after a thought like that is when you realize that however hard you
&nbsp;try to look behind you, there's a behind you, behind you, where you aren't
&nbsp;looking.  Moist flung his back to the cold stone wall where he slithered
&nbsp;along it until he ran out of wall and acquired a doorframe.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;#p. 278 ('thoughted' and 'thoughting' are accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;"Oh, Mr. Lipwig!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It is not often that a wailing woman rushes into a room and throws herself
&nbsp;at a man.  It had never happened to Moist before.  Now it happened, and it
&nbsp;seemed such a waste that the woman was Miss Maccalariat.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;She tottered forward and clung to the startled Moist, tears streaming down
&nbsp;her face.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh, Mr. Lipwig!" she wailed.  "Oh, Mr. Lipwig!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Moist reeled under her weight.  She was dragging at his collar so hard
&nbsp;that he was likely to end up on the floor, and the thought of being found
&nbsp;on the floor with Miss Maccalariat was--well, a thought that just couldn't
&nbsp;be thoughted.  The head would explode before thoughting it.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;#p. 315
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;Always remember that the crowd that applauds your coronation is the same
&nbsp;crowd that will applaud your beheading.  People like a show.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 326 (homage to "To Have and Have Not"; Lauren Bacall's character says
&nbsp;#         to Humphrey Bogart's character, "You know how to whistle, don't
&nbsp;#         you Steve?  Just put your lips together and--blow."
&nbsp;#         Miss Dearheart's slight pause seems better placed...)
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;Miss Dearheart stubbed out her cigarette.  "Go up there tonight, Mr. Lipwig.
&nbsp;Get yourself a little bit closer to heaven.  And then get down on your
&nbsp;knees and pray.  You know how to pray, don't you?  You just put your hands
&nbsp;together--and hope."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 333 ('crackers' have been sending and receiving clandestine clacks
&nbsp;#         messages without owners/operators of the clacks network noticing)
&nbsp;%passage 13
&nbsp;It was a little like stealing.  It was exactly like stealing.  It was, in
&nbsp;fact, stealing.  But there was no law against it, because no one knew the
&nbsp;crime existed, so is it really stealing if what's stolen isn't missed?
&nbsp;And is it stealing if you're stealing from thieves?  Anyway, all property
&nbsp;is theft, except mine.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Thud! (7)
&nbsp;# p. 39 (Harper Torch edition; passage starts mid-paragraph; speaker is Nobby)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;"Why mess about with a cunning plan when a simple one will do?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Thud!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 334-336 (originally transcribed from some other edition)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;He wanted to sleep.  He'd never felt this tired before.  Vimes slumped to
&nbsp;his knees, and then fell sideways on to the sand.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;When he forced his eyes open, he saw pale stars above him, and had, once
&nbsp;again, the sensation that there was someone else present.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He turned his head, wincing at the stab of pain, and saw a small but
&nbsp;brightly lit folding chair on the sand.  A robed figure was reclining in
&nbsp;it, reading a book.  A scythe was stuck in the sand beside it.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;A white, skeletal hand turned a page.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'You'll be Death, then?' said Vimes, after a while.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;AH, MISTER VIMES, ASTUTE AS EVER.  GOT IT IN ONE, said Death, shutting the
&nbsp;book on his finger to keep the place.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'I've seen you before.'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;I HAVE WALKED WITH YOU MANY TIMES, MISTER VIMES.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'And this is /it/, is it?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;HAS IT NEVER STRUCK YOU THAT THE CONCEPT OF A WRITTEN NARRATIVE IS SOMEWHAT
&nbsp;STRANGE? said Death.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Vimes could tell when people were trying to avoid something they really
&nbsp;didn't want to say, and it was happening here.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Is it?' he insisted.  'Is this it?  This time I die?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;COULD BE.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Could be?  What sort of answer is that?' said Vimes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;A VERY ACCURATE ONE.  YOU SEE, YOU ARE HAVING A NEAR-DEATH EXPERIENCE,
&nbsp;WHICH INESCAPABLY MEANS THAT I MUST UNDERGO A NEAR-/VIMES/ EXPERIENCE.
&nbsp;DON'T MIND ME.  CARRY ON WITH WHATEVER YOU WERE DOING.  I HAVE A BOOK.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Vimes rolled over on to his stomach, gritted his teeth, and pushed himself
&nbsp;on to his hands and knees again.  He managed a few yards before slumping
&nbsp;back down.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He heard the sound of a chair being moved.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Shouldn't you be somewhere else?' he said.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;I AM, said Death, sitting down again.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'But you're here!'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;AS WELL. Death turned a page and, for a person without breath, managed a
&nbsp;pretty good sigh.  IT APPEARS THAT THE BUTLER DID IT.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;'Did what?'
&nbsp;
&nbsp;IT IS A MADE-UP STORY.  VERY STRANGE.  ALL ONE NEEDS TO DO IS TURN TO THE
&nbsp;LAST PAGE AND THE ANSWER IS THERE.  WHAT, THEREFORE, IS THE POINT OF
&nbsp;DELIBERATELY NOT KNOWING?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It sounded like gibberish to Vimes, so he ignored it.  Some of the aches
&nbsp;had gone, although his head still hammered.  There was an empty feeling
&nbsp;everywhere.  He just wanted to sleep.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Thud!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 225-226
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;And I'm going home, Vimes repeated to himself.  Everyone wants something
&nbsp;from Vimes, even though I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer.  Hell,
&nbsp;I'm probably a spoon.  Well I'm going to be Vimes, and Vimes reads
&nbsp;/Where's My Cow?/ to Young Sam at six o'clock.  With the noises done right.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Thud!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 261-262
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;Fred Colon peered through the bars.  He was, on the whole, a pretty good
&nbsp;jailer; he always had a pot of tea on the go, he was, as a general rule,
&nbsp;amiably disposed to most people, he was too slow to be easily fooled, and
&nbsp;he kept the cell keys in a box in the bottom drawer of his desk, a long
&nbsp;way out of reach of any stick, hand, dog, cunningly thrown belt, or
&nbsp;trained Klatchian monkey spider.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Making Fred Colon possibly unique in the annals of jail history.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Thud!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 287 (American spelling of 'theater' is accurate [Harper Torch edition])
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;Brushing aside cobwebs with one hand and holding up a lantern with the
&nbsp;other, Sybil led the way past boxes of MEN'S BOOTS, VARIOUS; RISIBLE
&nbsp;PUPPETS, STRING &amp; GLOVE; MODEL THEATER AND SCENERY.  Maybe that was the
&nbsp;reason for their wealth: they bought things that were built to last, and
&nbsp;now they seldom had to buy anything at all.  Except food, of course, and
&nbsp;even then Vimes would not have been surprised to see boxes labeled APPLE
&nbsp;CORES, VARIOUS, or LEFTOVERS, NEED EATING UP.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) That was a phrase of Sybil's that got to him.  She'd announce at lunch,
&nbsp;"we must have the pork tonight, it needs eating up."  Vimes never had an
&nbsp;actual problem with this, because he'd been raised to eat what was put in
&nbsp;front of him, and do it quickly, too, before someone else snatched it away.
&nbsp;He was just puzzled at the suggestion that he was there to do the food a
&nbsp;favor.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Thud!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 296-297
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;"Tell me Drumknott, are you a betting man at all?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I have been know to have the occasional 'little flutter,' sir."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Given, then, a contest between an invisible and very powerful quasidemonic
&nbsp;/thing/ of pure vengeance on the one hand, and the commander on the other,
&nbsp;where would you wager, say... one dollar?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I wouldn't, sir.  That looks like one that would go to the judges."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes," said Vetinari, staring thoughtfully at the closed door.  "Yes,
&nbsp;/indeed/."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Thud!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 351 ('teeth-aching' probably ought to have been 'teeth-achingly')
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;Vimes reached up and took a mug of water from Angua.  It was teeth-aching
&nbsp;cold and the best drink he'd ever tasted.  And his mind worked fast, flying
&nbsp;in emergency supplies of common sense, as human minds do, to construct a
&nbsp;huge anchor in sanity and prove that what happened hadn't really happened
&nbsp;and, if it had happened, hadn't happened very much.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It was all mystic, that's what it was.  Oh, it /might/ all be true, but how
&nbsp;could you ever tell?  You had to stick to the things you can see.  And you
&nbsp;had to keep reminding yourself of that, too.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Yeah, that was it.  What had really happened, eh?  A few signs?  Well,
&nbsp;anything can look like you want it to, if you're worried and confused
&nbsp;enough, yes?  A sheep can look like a cow, right?  Ha!
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Thud!, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Wintersmith (16)
&nbsp;# p. 82 (HarperTeen edition--presumably HarperTempest suffered a name change)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;That's Third Thoughts for you.  When a huge rock is going to land on your
&nbsp;head, they're the thoughts that think:  Is that an igneous rock, such as
&nbsp;granite, or is it sandstone?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;p. 113
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;They say that there can never be two snowflakes that are exactly alike, but
&nbsp;has anyone checked lately?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 32-33
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;All witches are a bit odd.  Tiffany had got used to odd, so that odd seemed
&nbsp;quite normal.  There was Miss Level, for example, who had two bodies,
&nbsp;although one of them was imaginary.  Mistress Pullunder, who bred pedigreed
&nbsp;earthworms and gave them all names... well, she was hardly odd at all, just
&nbsp;a bit peculiar, and anyway earthworms were quite interesting in a basically
&nbsp;uninteresting kind of way.  And there had been Old Mother Dismass, who
&nbsp;suffered from bouts of temporal confusion, which can be quite strange when
&nbsp;it happens to a witch; her mouth never moved in time with her words, and
&nbsp;sometimes her footsteps came down the stairs ten minutes before she did.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;But when it came to odd, Miss Treason didn't just take the cake, but a
&nbsp;packet of biscuits too, with sprinkles on the top, and also a candle.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 34 ('villages': plural is accurate; 'clonk-clank' is rendered bold)
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;Then there was her clock.  It was heavy and made of rusty iron by someone
&nbsp;who was more blacksmith than watchmaker, which was why it went
&nbsp;*clonk-clank* instead of /tick-tock/.  She wore it on her belt and could
&nbsp;tell the time by feeling the stubby little hands.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There was a story in the villages that the clock was Miss Treason's heart,
&nbsp;which she'd used ever since her first heart died.  But there were lots of
&nbsp;stories about Miss Treason.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 40 (Boffo)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;First Sight and Second Thoughts, that's what a witch had to rely on: First
&nbsp;Sight to see what's really there, and Second Thoughts to watch the First
&nbsp;Thoughts to check that they were thinking right.  Then there were the
&nbsp;Third Thoughts, which Tiffany had never heard discussed and therefore kept
&nbsp;quiet about; they were odd, seemed to think for themselves, and didn't
&nbsp;turn up very often.  And they were telling her that there was more to Miss
&nbsp;Treason than met the eye.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 53-54 (in Carpe Jugulum, most of the lore [for humans] about how to kill
&nbsp;#            vampires had been written by long-lived/long-not-defunct vampires
&nbsp;#            [meaning that it was deliberately full of inaccuracies...])
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;It was in fact Miss Tick who had written /Witch Hunting for Dumb People/,
&nbsp;and she made sure that copies of it found their way into those areas where
&nbsp;people still believed that witches should be burned or drowned.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Since the only witch ever likely to pass through these days was Miss Tick
&nbsp;herself, it meant that if things did go wrong, she'd get a good night's
&nbsp;sleep and a decent meal before being thrown into the water.  The water was
&nbsp;no problem at all for Miss Tick, who had been to the Quirm College for
&nbsp;Young Ladies, where you had to have an icy dip every morning to build Moral
&nbsp;Fiber.  And a No. 1 Bosun's knot was very easy to undo with your teeth,
&nbsp;even underwater.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 55-56
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;Working quickly, she emptied her pockets and started a shamble.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Shambles worked.  That was about all you could say about them for certain.
&nbsp;You made them out of some string and a couple of sticks and anything you
&nbsp;had in your pocket at the time.  They were a witch's equivalent of those
&nbsp;knives with fifteen blades and three screwdrivers and a tiny magnifying
&nbsp;glass and a thing for extracting earwax from chickens.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;You couldn't even say precisely what they did, although Miss Tick thought
&nbsp;that they were a way of finding out what things the hidden bits of your
&nbsp;own mind already knew.  You had to make a shamble from scratch every time,
&nbsp;and only from things in your pockets.  There was no harm in having
&nbsp;interesting things in your pockets, though, just in case.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 69
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;A witch didn't do things because they seemed like a good idea at the time!
&nbsp;That was practically cackling!  You had to deal every day with people who
&nbsp;were foolish and lazy and untruthful and downright unpleasant, and you
&nbsp;could certainly end up thinking that the world would be considerably
&nbsp;improved if you gave them a slap.  But you didn't because, as Miss Tick
&nbsp;had once explained: a) it would make the world a better place for only a
&nbsp;very short period of time; b) it would then make the world a slightly
&nbsp;worse place; and c) you're not supposed to be as stupid as they are.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 106 (Rob Anybody is married to their kelda, ruler of the clan;
&nbsp;#         passage continues with three or so pages about Explaining
&nbsp;#         [focusing on the reactions of the recipient of the explanation:
&nbsp;#         Pursin' o' the Lips; Foldin' o' the Arms; Tappin' o' the Feets;
&nbsp;#         and also the reactions of the listening Feegles as they hear
&nbsp;#         about them] but would end up on the long side if included here)
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;"Aye, but the boy willna be interested in marryin'," said Slightly Mad
&nbsp;Angus.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"He might be one day," said Billy Bigchin, who'd made a hobby of watching
&nbsp;humans.  "Most bigjob men get married."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"They do?" said a Feegle in astonishment.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh, aye."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"They want tae get married?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"A lot o' them do, aye," said Billy.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"So there's nae more drinkin', and stealin', and fightin'?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Hey, ah'm still allowed some drinkin' and stealin' and fightin'!" said
&nbsp;Rob Anybody.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Aye, Rob, but we canna help noticin' ye also have tae do the Explainin',
&nbsp;too." said Daft Wullie.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There was a general nodding from the crowd.  To Feegles, Explaining was a
&nbsp;dark art.  It was just so /hard/.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 126-127 (passage starts mid-paragraph;
&nbsp;#              witches know in advance when they're going to die)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;"[...]  We shall hold the funeral tomorrow afternoon."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Sorry?  You mean /before/ you die?" said Tiffany.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Why, of course!  I don't see why I shouldn't have some fun!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Good thinkin'!" said Rob Anybody.  "That's the kind o' sensible detail
&nbsp;people usually fails tae consider."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"We call it a going-away party," said Miss Treason.  "Just for witches, of
&nbsp;course.  Other people tend to get a bit nervous--I can't think why.  And
&nbsp;on the bright side, we've got that splendid ham that Mr. Armbinder gave us
&nbsp;last week for settling the ownership of the chestnut tree, and I'd love to
&nbsp;try it."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 129
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;Some people think that "coven" is a word for a group of witches, and it's
&nbsp;true that's what the dictionary says.  But the real word for a group of
&nbsp;witches is an "argument."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 174-175 (passage starts mid-paragraph; last paragraph continues, but
&nbsp;#          changes topic so abruptly Tiffany gasps; 'rumbustious' is accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;"[...]  And now I shall tell you something vitally important.  It is the
&nbsp;secret of my long life."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Ah, thought Tiffany, and she leaned forward.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"The important thing," said Miss Treason, "is to stay the passage of the
&nbsp;wind.  You should avoid rumbustious fruits and vegetables.  Beans are the
&nbsp;worst, take it from me."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I don't think I understand--" Tiffany began.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Try not to fart, in a nutshell."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"In a nutshell, I imagine it would be pretty unpleasant!" said Tiffany
&nbsp;nervously.  She couldn't believe she was being told this.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"This is no joking matter," said Miss Treason.  "The human body has only
&nbsp;so much air in it.  You have to make it last.  One plate of beans can take
&nbsp;a year off your life.  I have avoided rumbustiousness all my days.  I am
&nbsp;an old person and that means what I say is wisdom!"  She gave the
&nbsp;bewildered Tiffany a stern look.  "Do you understand, child?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Tiffany's mind raced.  Everything is a test!  "No," she said.  "I'm not a
&nbsp;child and that's nonsense, not wisdom!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The stern look cracked into a smile.  "Yes," said Miss Treason.  "Total
&nbsp;gibberish.  But you've got to admit it's a corker, all the same, right?
&nbsp;You definitely believed it, just for a moment?  The villagers did last
&nbsp;year.  You should have seen the way they walked about for a few weeks!
&nbsp;The strained looks on their faces quite cheered me up!  [...]"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 185 (Miss Treason tells people she's 113, but she's actually /only/ 111)
&nbsp;%passage 13
&nbsp;MISS EUMENIDES TREASON, AGED ONE HUNDRED AND ELEVEN?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Tiffany heard the voice inside her head.  It didn't seem to have come
&nbsp;through her ears.  And she'd heard it before, making her quite unusual.
&nbsp;Most people hear the voice of Death only once.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 229
&nbsp;%passage 14
&nbsp;Tiffany had looked up "strumpet" in the Unexpurgated Dictionary, and found
&nbsp;it meant "a woman who is no better than she should be" and "a lady of easy
&nbsp;virtue."  This, she decided after some working out, meant that Mrs. Gytha
&nbsp;Ogg, known as Nanny, was a very respectable person.  She found virtue easy,
&nbsp;for one thing.  And if she was no better than she should be, she was just
&nbsp;as good as she ought to be.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 360-361 ('wurds' is accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 15
&nbsp;"An heroic effect, Mr. Anybody," said Granny.  "The first thing a hero must
&nbsp;conquer is his fear, and when it comes to fightin', the Nac Mac Feegle
&nbsp;don't know the meanin' of the word."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Aye, true enough," Rob grunted.  "We dinna ken the meanin' o' thousands
&nbsp;o' wurds!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 398-399 ("Chumsfanleigh" is pronounced "Chuffley")
&nbsp;%passage 16
&nbsp;At the back of the Feegles' chalk pit, more chalk had been carved out of
&nbsp;the wall to make a tunnel about five feet high and perhaps as long.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;In front of it stood Roland de Chumsfanleigh (it wasn't his fault).  His
&nbsp;ancestors had been knights, and they had come to own the Chalk by killing
&nbsp;the kings who thought they did.  Swords, that's what it had all been about.
&nbsp;Swords and cutting off heads.  That was how you got land in the old days,
&nbsp;and then the rules were changed so that you didn't need a sword to own
&nbsp;land anymore, you just needed the right piece of paper.  But his ancestors
&nbsp;had still hung on to their swords, just in case people thought that the
&nbsp;whole thing with the bits of paper had been unfair, it being a fact that
&nbsp;you can't please everybody.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He'd always wanted to be good with a sword, and it had come as a shock to
&nbsp;find that they were so /heavy/.  He was great at air sword.  In front of a
&nbsp;mirror he could fence against his reflection and win nearly all the time.
&nbsp;Real swords didn't allow that.  You tried to swing them and they ended up
&nbsp;swinging you.  He'd realized that maybe he was more cut out for bits of
&nbsp;paper.  Besides, he needed glasses, which could be a bit tricky under a
&nbsp;helmet, especially if someone was hitting /you/ with a sword.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Making Money (17)
&nbsp;# p. 187 (Harper edition -- what's become of Harper Torch?)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;"I'm an Igor, thur.  We don't athk quethtionth."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Really?  Why not?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I don't know, thur.  I didn't athk."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 177 (originally transcribed from some other edition; Harper edition
&nbsp;#         uses American spelling for "armor")
&nbsp;#        [some off-duty Watchmen moonlight as bank security guards]
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;The Watch armor he'd lifted from the bank's locker room fitted like a
&nbsp;glove.  He'd have preferred it to fit like a helmet and breastplate.
&nbsp;But, in truth, it probably didn't look any better on its owner, currently
&nbsp;swanking along the corridors in the bank's own shiny but impractical armor.
&nbsp;It was common knowledge that the Watch's approach to uniforms was one-size-
&nbsp;doesn't-exactly-fit-anybody, and that Commander Vimes disapproved of armor
&nbsp;that didn't have that kicked-by-trolls look.  He liked armor to state
&nbsp;clearly that it had been doing its job.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 108 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;"[...]  The world is full of things worth more than gold.  But we dig the
&nbsp;damn stuff up and then bury it in a different hole.  Where's the sense in
&nbsp;that?  What are we, magpies?  Good heavens, /potatoes/ are worth more than
&nbsp;gold!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Surely not!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"If you were shipwrecked on a desert island, what would you prefer, a bag
&nbsp;of potatoes or a bag of gold?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes, but a desert island isn't Ankh-Morpork!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"And that proves gold is only valuable because we agree it is, right?
&nbsp;It's just a dream.  But a potato is always worth a potato, anywhere.  Add
&nbsp;a knob of butter and a pinch of salt and you've got a meal, /anywhere/.
&nbsp;Bury gold in the ground and you'll be worrying about thieves forever.
&nbsp;Bury a potato and in due season you could be looking at a dividend of a
&nbsp;thousand per cent."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 22-24 (Albert Spangler is one of Moist Lipwig's aliases;
&nbsp;#            'dyslectic' is accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;"Let us talk about angels," said Lord Vetinari.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh yes, I know that one," said Moist bitterly.  "I've heard that one.
&nbsp;That's the one you got me with after I was hanged--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Vetinari raised an eyebrow.  "Only mostly hanged, I think you'll find.  To
&nbsp;within an inch of your life."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Whatever!  I was hanged!  And the worst part of that was finding out I
&nbsp;only got two paragraphs in the /Tanty Bugle/!(1)  Two paragraphs, may I
&nbsp;say, for a life of ingenious, inventive, and strictly nonviolent crime?
&nbsp;I could have been an example to the youngsters!  Page one got hogged by
&nbsp;the Dyslectic Alphabet Killer, and he only managed A and W!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I confess the editor does appear to believe that it is not a proper crime
&nbsp;unless someone is found in three alleys at once, but that is the price of
&nbsp;a free press.  And it suits us both, does it not, that Albert Spangler's
&nbsp;passage from this world was... unmemorable?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes, but I wasn't expecting an afterlife like this!  I have to do what
&nbsp;I'm told for the rest of my life?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Correction, your new life.  That is a crude summary, yes," said Vetinari.
&nbsp;"Let me rephrase things, however.  Ahead of you, Mr. Lipwig, is a life of
&nbsp;respectable quiet contentment, of civic dignity, and, of course, in the
&nbsp;fullness of time, a pension.  Not to mention, of course, the proud gold-ish
&nbsp;chain."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Moist winced at this.  "And if I /don't/ do what you say?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Hmm?  Oh, you misunderstand me, Mr. Lipwig.  That is what will happen to
&nbsp;you if you decline my offer.  If you accept it, you will survive on your
&nbsp;wits against powerful and dangerous enemies, with every day presenting
&nbsp;fresh challenges.  Someone may even try to kill you."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What?  Why?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You annoy people.  A hat goes with the job, incidentally."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) A periodical published throughout the Plains, noted for its coverage
&nbsp;of murder (preferably 'orrible) trials, prison escapes, and the world that
&nbsp;in general is surrounded by a chalk outline.  Very popular.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;#p. 71
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;When he got back to the Post Office, Moist looked up the Lavish family in
&nbsp;/Whom's Whom/.  They were indeed what was known of as "old money," which
&nbsp;meant that it had been made so long ago that the black deeds which had
&nbsp;originally filled the coffers were now historically irrelevant.  Funny,
&nbsp;that:  a brigand for a father was something you kept quiet about, but a
&nbsp;slave-taking pirate for a great-great-great-grandfather was something to
&nbsp;boast of over the port.  Time turned the evil bastards into rogues, and
&nbsp;/rogue/ was a word with a twinkle in its eye and nothing to be ashamed of.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 72 ('clacks' is a communication system, here analogous to a telegraph)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;He spotted the flimsy pink clacks among the other stuff and tugged it out
&nbsp;quickly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It was from Spike!
&nbsp;
&nbsp;He read:
&nbsp;
&nbsp;    SUCCESS.  RETURNING DAY AFTER TOMORROW.
&nbsp;    ALL WILL BE REVEALED.  S.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Moist put it down carefully.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Obviously she'd missed him terribly and was desperate to see him again, but
&nbsp;she was stingy about spending Golem Trust money.  Also, she'd probably run
&nbsp;out of cigarettes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Moist drummed his fingers on the desk.  A year ago he'd asked Adora Belle
&nbsp;Dearheart to be his wife, and she'd explained that, in fact, he was going
&nbsp;to be her husband.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;It was going to be... well, it was going to be sometime in the near future,
&nbsp;when Mrs. Dearheart finally lost patience with her daughter's busy schedule
&nbsp;and arranged the wedding herself.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;But he was a nearly married man, however you looked at it.  And nearly
&nbsp;married men didn't get mixed up with the Lavish family.  A nearly married
&nbsp;man was steadfast and dependable and always ready to hand his nearly wife
&nbsp;an ashtray.  He had to be there for his oneday children, and make sure
&nbsp;they slept in a well-ventilated nursery.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 79 (passage starts mid-paragraph; departed Mrs. Lavish is a bank owner)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;"[...]  Now what, Mr. Death?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;NOW? said Death.  NOW, YOU COULD SAY, COMES... THE AUDIT.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh.  There is one, is there?  Well, I'm not ashamed."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;THAT COUNTS.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 183-184 (American spelling of 'gray' is accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;Moist lit the lamp and walked over to the battered wreckage of his wardrobe.
&nbsp;Once again he selected the tatty gray suit.  It had sentimental value; he
&nbsp;had been hanged in it.  And it was an unmemorable suit for an unmemorable
&nbsp;man, with the additional advantage, unlike black, of not showing up in the
&nbsp;dark.(1)  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Every assassin knew that real black often stood out in the dark,
&nbsp;because the night in the city is usually never full black, and that gray
&nbsp;or green merge much better.  But they wore black anyway, because style
&nbsp;trumps utility every time.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 218 (the Cabinet of Curiosity)
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;"All right, then," said Moist, "/what does it do/?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"We don't know."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"How does it work?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"We don't know."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Where did it come from?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"We don't know."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, that seems to be all," said Moist sarcastically.  "Oh no, one last
&nbsp;one:  what is it?  And let me tell you, I'm agog."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That may be the wrong sort of question to ask," said Ponder, shaking his
&nbsp;head.  "Technically it appears to be a classic Bag of Holding but with /n/
&nbsp;mouths, where /n/ is the number of items in an eleven-dimensional universe,
&nbsp;which are not currently alive, not pink, and can fit in a cubical drawer
&nbsp;14.14 inches on a side, divided by P."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"What's P?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That may be the wrong sort of question."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 225 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;"[...]  I'll talk to Dr. Hicks.  He's the head of the Department of
&nbsp;Postmortem Communications."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Postmortem Com..." Moist began.  "Isn't that the same as necroman--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I said the /Department of Postmortem Communications/," said Ponder very
&nbsp;firmly.  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 247 (it's a spirit summoned by Dr. Hicks that is describing the art/risk)
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;"Necromancy is a fine art?" said Moist.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"None finer, young man.  Get things just a tiny bit wrong and the spirits
&nbsp;of the vengeful dead may enter your head via your ears and blow your brains
&nbsp;out down your nose."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The eyes of Moist and Adora Belle focused on Dr. Hicks like those of an
&nbsp;archer on his target.  He waved his hands frantically and mouthed, "Not
&nbsp;very often!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 269
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;"If you can't stand the heat, get off the pot, that's what I always say,"
&nbsp;said a senior clerk, and there was a general murmur of agreement.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 264 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 13
&nbsp;[...] if the fundamental occult maxim "as above, so below" was true, then
&nbsp;so was "as below, so above"...
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 280
&nbsp;%passage 14
&nbsp;"In the Old Country we have a thaying," Igor volunteered.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"A what?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"A thaying.  We thay, 'if you don't want the monthter you don't pull the
&nbsp;lever.'"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You don't think I've gone mad, do you, Igor?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Many great men have been conthidered mad, Mr. Hubert.  Even Dr. Hanth
&nbsp;Forvord wath called mad.  But I put it to you:  could a madman have created
&nbsp;a revolutionary living-brain extractor?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 302
&nbsp;%passage 15
&nbsp;There was a saying:  "Old necromancers never die."  When he told them this,
&nbsp;people would say "... and?" and Hicks would have to reply, "That's all of
&nbsp;it, I'm afraid.  Just 'Old necromancers never die.'"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 336 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 16
&nbsp;[...]  What the iron maiden was to stupid tyrants, the committee was to
&nbsp;Lord Vetinari; it was only slightly more expensive,(1) far less messy,
&nbsp;considerably more efficient, and, best of all, you had to /force/ people
&nbsp;to climb inside the iron maiden.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) The only real expense was tea and biscuits halfway through, which
&nbsp;seldom happened with the iron maiden.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 361 (Mr. Slant is a zombie)
&nbsp;%passage 17
&nbsp;"Mrs. Lavish, a lady many of us were privileged to know, recently confided
&nbsp;in me that she was dying," said Vetinari.  "She asked me for advice on the
&nbsp;future of the bank, given that her obvious heirs were, in her words, 'as
&nbsp;nasty a bunch of weasels as you could ever hope not to meet--'"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;All thirty-one of the Lavish lawyers stood up and spoke at once, incuring
&nbsp;a total cost to clients of $AM119.28p.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Mr. Slant glared at them.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Mr. Slant did not, despite what had been said, have the respect of Ankh-
&nbsp;Morpork's legal profession.  He commanded its fear.  Death had not
&nbsp;diminished his encyclopedic memory, his guile, his talent for corkscrew
&nbsp;reasoning, and the vitriol of his stare.  Do not cross me this day, it
&nbsp;advised the lawyers.  Do not cross me, for if you do I will have the flesh
&nbsp;from your very bones and the marrow therein.  You know those leather-bound
&nbsp;tomes you have on the wall behind your desks to impress your clients?  I
&nbsp;have read them all, and wrote half of them.  Do not try me.  I am not in a
&nbsp;good mood.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;One by one, they sat down.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Total cost, including time and disbursements: $AM253.16p.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Unseen Academicals (12)
&nbsp;# p. 68 (Harper edition)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;Be one of the crowd?  It went against everything a wizard stood for,
&nbsp;and a wizard would not stand for anything if he could sit down for it,
&nbsp;but even sitting down, you had to stand out.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Unseen Academicals, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 1 (footnote, so "(1)" ought to be "(2)", but somebody would complain...)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;Technically, the city of Ankh-Morpork is a Tyranny, which is not always
&nbsp;the same thing as a monarchy, and in fact even the post of Tyrant has been
&nbsp;somewhat redefined by the incumbent, Lord Vetinari, as the only form of
&nbsp;democracy that works.  Everyone is entitled to vote, unless disqualified
&nbsp;by reason of age or not being Lord Vetinari.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And yet it does work.  This has annoyed a number of people who feel,
&nbsp;somehow, that it should not work, and who want a monarch instead, thus
&nbsp;replacing a man who has achieved his position by cunning, a deep
&nbsp;understanding of the realities of the human psyche, breathtaking
&nbsp;diplomancy, a certain prowess with the stiletto dagger, and, all agree,
&nbsp;a mind like a finely balanced circular saw, with a man who has got there
&nbsp;by being born.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;However, the crown has hung on anyway, as crowns do--on the Post Office
&nbsp;and the Royal Bank and the Mint and, not least, in the sprawling,
&nbsp;brawling, squalling consciousness of the city itself.  Lots of things
&nbsp;live in that darkness.  There are all kinds of darkness, and all kinds
&nbsp;of things can be found in them, imprisoned, banished, lost or hidden.
&nbsp;Sometimes they escape.  Sometimes they simply fall out.  Sometimes they
&nbsp;just can't take it any more.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) A third proposition, that the city be governed by a choice of
&nbsp;respectable members of the community who would promise not to give
&nbsp;themselves airs or betray the public trust at every turn, was instantly
&nbsp;the subject of music hall jokes all over the city.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Unseen Academicals, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 16
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;A wizard could do what he liked in his own study, and in the old days that
&nbsp;had largely meant smoking anything he fancied and farting hugely without
&nbsp;apologizing.  These days it meant building out into a congruent set of
&nbsp;dimensions.  Even the Archchancellor was doing it, which made it hard for
&nbsp;Ponder to protest:  he had half a mile of trout stream in his bathroom,
&nbsp;and claimed that messin' about in his study was what kept a wizard out
&nbsp;of mischief.  And, as everyone knew, it did.  It generally got him into
&nbsp;trouble instead.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Unseen Academicals, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 18 (Ridcully is furious at the former Dean, who left UU to become a
&nbsp;#        rival [Arch-]Chancellor at Brazeneck University in Pseudopolis)
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;"Remuneration?  Since when did a wizard work for wages?  We are pure
&nbsp;academics, Mister Stibbons!  We do not care for mere money!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Unfortunately, Ponder was a clear logical thinker who, in times of mental
&nbsp;confusion, fell back on reason and honesty, which, when dealing with an
&nbsp;angry Archchancellor, were, to use the proper academic term, unhelpful.
&nbsp;And he neglected to think strategically, always a mistake when talking to
&nbsp;fellow academics, and as a result made the mistake of employing, as at
&nbsp;this point, common sense.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That's because we never actually pay for anything very much," he said,
&nbsp;"and if anyone needs any petty cash they just help themselves from the
&nbsp;big jar--"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"We are part of the very fabric of the university, Mister Stibbons!  We
&nbsp;take only what we require!  We do not seek wealth!  And most certainly
&nbsp;we do not accept a 'post of vital importance which includes an attractive
&nbsp;package of remuneration,' whatever the hells that means, 'and other
&nbsp;benefits including a generous pension!'  A pension, mark you!  When has a
&nbsp;wizard ever retired?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Unseen Academicals, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 19 (She: plump Glenda; Her: fashion-model-to-be Juliet)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;She was, in fact, quite a pleasant looking girl, even if her bosom had
&nbsp;clearly been intended for a girl two feet taller; but she was not Her.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) The Egregious Professor of Grammar and Usage would have corrected
&nbsp;this to "she was not she," which would have caused the Professor of Logic
&nbsp;to spit out his drink.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Unseen Academicals, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 48 (He: Nutt, a key element of the story who doesn't figure in any
&nbsp;#        of the other selected passages...)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;He'd tried wandering around the other cellars, but there was nothing much
&nbsp;happening at night, and people gave him funny looks.  Ladyship did not
&nbsp;rule here.  But wizards are a messy lot and nobody tidied up much and
&nbsp;lived to tell the tale, so all sorts of old storerooms and junk-filled
&nbsp;workshops became his for the use of.  And there was so much for a lad with
&nbsp;keen night vision to find.  He had already seen some luminous spoon ants
&nbsp;carrying a fork, and, to his surprise, the forgotten mazes were home to
&nbsp;that very rare indoorovore, the Uncommon Sock Eater.  There were some
&nbsp;things living up in the pipes, too, which periodically murmured "Awk! Awk!"
&nbsp;Who knew what strange monsters made their home here?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Unseen Academicals, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 58
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;Truth is female, since truth is beauty rather than handsomeness; this,
&nbsp;Ridcully reflected as the Council grumbled in, would certainly explain
&nbsp;the saying that a lie could run around the world before Truth got its,
&nbsp;correction, /her/ boots on, and since she would have to choose which
&nbsp;pair--the idea that any woman in the position to choose would have just
&nbsp;one pair of boots being beyond rational belief.  Indeed, as a goddess she
&nbsp;would have lots of shoes, and thus many choices:  comfy shoes for home
&nbsp;truths, hobnail boots for unpleasant truths, simple clogs for universal
&nbsp;truths and possibly some kind of slipper for self-evident truth.  More
&nbsp;important right now was what kind of truth he was going to have to impart
&nbsp;to his colleagues, and he decided not on the whole truth, but instead on
&nbsp;nothing but the truth, which dispensed with the need for honesty.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Unseen Academicals, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 166 (see "the wrong sort of question" passage from /Making Money/
&nbsp;#         for a description of the Cabinet; items removed from it have to
&nbsp;#         be returned within 14:14 hours or they're drawn back magically;
&nbsp;#         student in question had removed a sandwich and then eaten it)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;"Yes, sir?" said Ponder wearily.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Promote him.  Whatever level he is, move him up one."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I think that'll send the wrong kind of signal," Ponder tried.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"On the contrary, Mister Stibbons.  It will send exactly the right kind of
&nbsp;message to the student body."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"But he disobeyed an express order, may I point out?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"That's right.  He showed independent thinking and a certain amount of
&nbsp;pluck, and in the course of so doing added valuable data to our
&nbsp;understanding of the Cabinet."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"But he might have destroyed the whole university, sir."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Right, in which case he would have been vigorously disciplined, if we'd
&nbsp;been able to find anything left of him.  But he didn't and he was lucky
&nbsp;and we need lucky wizards.  Promote him, on the direct order of me, not
&nbsp;pp'd at all.  Incidentally, how loud were his screams?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Unseen Academicals, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 192-193 ('pants': underpants; 'football': soccer ;-)
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;"You will arrange yourself into two teams, set up goals, and strive to win!
&nbsp;No man will leave the field of play unless injured!  The hands are not to
&nbsp;be used, is that clear?  Any questions?"  A hand went up.  Ridcully sought
&nbsp;the attached face.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ah, Rincewind," he said, and, because he was not a determinedly unpleasant
&nbsp;man, amended this to, "Professor Rincewind, of course."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"I would like permission to fetch a note from my mother, sir."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Ridcully sighed.  "Rincewind, you once informed me, to my everlasting
&nbsp;puzzlement, that you never knew your mother because she ran away before
&nbsp;you were born.  Distinctly remember writing it down in my diary.  Would
&nbsp;you like another try?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Permission to go and find my mother?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Ridcully hesitated.  The Professor of Cruel and Unusual Geography had no
&nbsp;students and no real duties other than to stay out of trouble.  Although
&nbsp;Ridcully would never admit it, it was against all reason an emeritus
&nbsp;position.  Rincewind was a coward and an unwitting clown, but he had
&nbsp;several times saved the world in slightly puzzling circumstances.  He was
&nbsp;a luck sink, the Archchancellor decided, doomed to being a lightning rod
&nbsp;for the fates so that everyone else didn't have to.  Such a person was
&nbsp;worth all his meals and laundry (including an above-average level of
&nbsp;soiled pants) and a bucket of coal every day even if he was, in Ridcully's
&nbsp;opinion, a bit of a whiner.  However, he was fast, and therefore useful.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Look," said Rincewind, "a mysterious urn turns up and suddenly it's all
&nbsp;about football.  That bodes.  It means that something bad is going to
&nbsp;happen."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Come now, it could be something wonderful," Ridcully protested.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Rincewind appeared to give this due consideration.  "Could be wonderful,
&nbsp;will be dreadful.  Sorry, that's how it goes."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"This is Unseen University, Rincewind.  What is there to fear?" Ridcully
&nbsp;said.  "Apart from me, of course.  Good heavens, this is a sport."  He
&nbsp;raised his voice.  "Arrange yourselves into two teams and play football!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Unseen Academicals, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 268 (passage starts mid-paragraph; Glenda is cleaning UU's Night Kitchen)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;[...]  If you wanted a job done properly, you had to do it yourself.
&nbsp;Juliet's version of cleanliness was next to godliness, which was to say
&nbsp;it was erratic, past all understanding and seldom seen.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Unseen Academicals, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 358-359
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;"Well, big day, lads!" said Ridcully.  "Looks like there's going to be a
&nbsp;nice day for it as well.  They're all over there waiting for us to give
&nbsp;them a show.  I want you to approach this in the best traditions of Unseen
&nbsp;University sportsmanship, which is to cheat whenever you are unobserved,
&nbsp;though I fear that the chance of anyone being unobserved today is remote.
&nbsp;But in any case, I want you to give it one hundred and ten percent."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Excuse me, Archchancellor," said Ponder Stibbons.  "I understand the
&nbsp;sense of what you are saying, but there is only one hundred percent."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, they could give it one hundred and ten percent if they tried
&nbsp;harder," said Ridcully.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Well, yes and no, sir.  But, in fact, that would mean that you had just
&nbsp;made the one hundred percent bigger while it would still be one hundred
&nbsp;percent.  Besides, there is only so fast a man can run, only so high a man
&nbsp;can jump.  I just wanted to make the point."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Good point, well made," said Ridcully, dismissing it instantly.  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Unseen Academicals, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 363 (more lyrics occur later on; they're generally about using
&nbsp;#         economics to conquer any opposition)
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;The singing of the National Anthem was always a ragged affair, the good
&nbsp;people of Ankh-Morpork feeling that it was unpatriotic to sing songs about
&nbsp;how patriotic you were, taking the view that someone singing a song about
&nbsp;how patriotic they were was either up to something or a Head of State.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;An additional problem today lay in the acoustics of the arena, which were
&nbsp;rather too good, coupled with the fact that the speed of sound at one end
&nbsp;of the stadium was slightly offbeat compared with the other end, a
&nbsp;drawback exacerbated when both sides tried to recover the gap.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;These acoustical anomalies did not count for much if you were standing
&nbsp;next to Mustrum Ridcully, as the Archchancellor was one of those gentleman
&nbsp;who will sing it beautifully, correctly enunciated and very, very loudly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"'When dragons belch and hippos flee, my thoughts, Ankh-Morpork, are of
&nbsp;thee.'" he began.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) i.e., up to something.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Unseen Academicals, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title I Shall Wear Midnight (13)
&nbsp;# p. 447 (Harper edition; this passage is a quote from the "Authur's Note",
&nbsp;#         three extra pages after the conclusion of the story; there is a
&nbsp;#         similar, slightly shorter version of this in the text on p. 236,
&nbsp;#         where it's preceded by "The past needs to be remembered." but
&nbsp;#         lacks the final 'going wrong' sentence)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;It is important that we know where we come from, because if you do not
&nbsp;know where you come from, then you don't know where you are, and if you
&nbsp;don't know where you are, you don't know where you're going.  And if you
&nbsp;don't know where you're going, you're probably going wrong.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [I Shall Wear Midnight, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 429-430 (passage starts mid-paragraph and ends mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;"[...]  There have been times, lately, when I dearly wished that I could
&nbsp;change the past.  Well, I can't, but I can change the present, so that
&nbsp;when it becomes the past it will turn out to be a past worth having. [...]"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [I Shall Wear Midnight, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 2 (passage starts mid-paragraph; scene is a village fair)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;[...]  And so here, [...], you heard the permanent scream of, well,
&nbsp;everyone.  It was called having fun.  The only people not making any noise
&nbsp;were the thieves and pickpockets, who went about their business with
&nbsp;commendable silence, and they didn't come near Tiffany; who would pick a
&nbsp;witch's pocket?  You would be lucky to get all your fingers back.  At
&nbsp;least, that's what they feared, and a sensible witch would encourage them
&nbsp;in this fear.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [I Shall Wear Midnight, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 61
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;/The hare runs into the fire./
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Had she seen that written down anywhere?  Had she heard it as part of a
&nbsp;song?  A nursery rhyme?  What had the hare got to do with anything?  But
&nbsp;she was a witch, after all, and there was a job to do.  Mysterious omens
&nbsp;could wait.  Witches knew that mysterious omens were around all the time.
&nbsp;The world was always very nearly drowning in mysterious omens.  You just
&nbsp;had to pick the one that was convenient.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [I Shall Wear Midnight, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 64
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;That was the thing about thoughts.  They thought themselves, and then
&nbsp;dropped into your head in the hope that you would think so too.  You had
&nbsp;to slap them down, thoughts like that; they would take a witch over if she
&nbsp;let them.  And then it would all break down, and nothing would be left but
&nbsp;the cackling.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [I Shall Wear Midnight, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 65 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;"[...]  It just so happens that I was passing by, ye ken, and not
&nbsp;following ye at all.  One of them coincidences."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"There have been a lot of those coincidences lately," said Tiffany.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Aye," said Rob, grinning, "it must be another coincidence."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [I Shall Wear Midnight, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 179-180
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;Tiffany cleared her throat.  "Well," she said, "I suppose Rob Anybody would
&nbsp;tell you that there are times when promises should be kept and times when
&nbsp;promises should be broken, and it takes a Feegle to know the difference."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Mrs. Proust grinned hugely.  "You could almost be from the city, Miss
&nbsp;Tiffany Aching."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [I Shall Wear Midnight, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 183 (Wee Mad Arthur is a member of the Ankh-Morpork Watch; he was a
&nbsp;#         foundling raised by gnomes and didn't know he was a Feegle until
&nbsp;#         he met with the ones accompanying Tiffany)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;Despite himself, Wee Mad Arthur was grinning.  "Have you boys got no shame?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Rob Anybody matched him grin for grin.  "I couldna say," he replied, "but
&nbsp;if we have, it probably belonged tae somebody else."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [I Shall Wear Midnight, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 219 (footnote)
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;There is a lot of folklore about equestrian statues, especially the ones
&nbsp;with riders on them.  There is said to be a code in the number and
&nbsp;placement of the horse's hooves:  If one of the horse's hooves is in the
&nbsp;air, the rider was wounded in battle; two legs in the air means that the
&nbsp;rider was killed in battle; three legs in the air indicates that the
&nbsp;rider got lost on the way to the battle; and four legs in the air means
&nbsp;that the sculptor was very, very clever.  Five legs in the air means that
&nbsp;there's probably at least one other horse standing behind the one you're
&nbsp;looking at; and the rider lying on the ground with his horse lying on top
&nbsp;of him with all four legs in the air means that the rider was either a
&nbsp;very incompetent horseman or owned a very bad-tempered horse.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [I Shall Wear Midnight, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 318 (passage starts mid-paragraph and ends mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;[...]  "Knowledge is power, power is energy, energy is matter, matter is
&nbsp;mass, and mass changes time and space." [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [I Shall Wear Midnight, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 362 (passage starts mid-paragraph; speaker is Preston, a castle guard;
&nbsp;#         quote is a parody of J.R.R.Tolkien's "Do not meddle in the affairs
&nbsp;#         of wizards, for they are subtle, and quick to anger.")
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;[...]  "My granny said, 'Don't meddle in the affairs of witches because
&nbsp;they clout you around the ear.'"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [I Shall Wear Midnight, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 386-387 (Tiffany is trying to rescue some witches from a castle roof)
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;Tiffany crawled a little farther, well aware of the sheer drop an inch
&nbsp;away from her hand.  "Preston has gone to fetch a rope.  Do you have a
&nbsp;broomstick?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"A sheep crashed into it," said Mrs. Proust.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Tiffany could just make her out now.  "You crashed into a sheep in
&nbsp;/the air/?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Maybe it was a cow, or something.  What are those things that go
&nbsp;/snuffle snuffle/?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"You ran into a flying hedgehog?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"No, as it happened.  We were down low, looking for a bush for Mrs.
&nbsp;Happenstance."  There was a sigh in the gloom.  "It's because of her
&nbsp;trouble, poor soul.  We've stopped at a lot of bushes on the way here,
&nbsp;believe me!  And do you know what?  Inside every single one of them is
&nbsp;something that stings, bites, kicks, screams, howls, squelches, farts
&nbsp;enormously, goes all spiky, tries to knock you over, or does an enormous
&nbsp;pile of poo!  Haven't you people up here ever heard of porcelain?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Tiffany was taken aback.  "Well, yes, but not in the fields!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"They would be all the better for it," said Mrs. Proust.  "I've ruined
&nbsp;a decent pair of boots, I have."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [I Shall Wear Midnight, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 442 (passage starts mid-paragraph; see /The Wee Free Men/;
&nbsp;#         'underrr' and 'ag-rreeeed' are accurate; 'arr-angement' is
&nbsp;#         hyphenated to span lines--it's just a guess that it would have
&nbsp;#         been hyphenated anyway)
&nbsp;%passage 13
&nbsp;"Nae king, nae quin, nae laird!  One baron--and underrr mutually
&nbsp;ag-rreeeed arr-angement, ye ken!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [I Shall Wear Midnight, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Snuff (16)
&nbsp;# p. 168 (Harper edition; 'ax' is spelled without the 'e' there...)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;They were crude weapons, to be sure, but a flint axe hitting your head does
&nbsp;not need a degree in physics.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;It is a strange thing to find yourself doing something you have apparently
&nbsp;always wanted to do, when in fact up until that moment you had never known
&nbsp;that you always wanted to do it...
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 2 (the subject is goblins)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;At this point, Lord Vetinari, Patrician of Ankh-Morpork, stopped reading
&nbsp;and stared at nothing.  After a few seconds, nothing was eclipsed by the
&nbsp;form of Drumknott, his secretary (who, it must be said, had spent a career
&nbsp;turning himself as much like nothing as anything).
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Drumknott said, "You look pensive, my lord," to which observation he
&nbsp;appended a most delicate question mark, which gradually evaporated.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Awash with tears, Drumknott, awash with tears."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Drumknott stopped dusting the impeccably shiny black lacquered desk.
&nbsp;"Pastor Oats is a very persuasive writer, isn't he, sir...?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Indeed he is, Drumknott, but the basic problem remains and it is this:
&nbsp;humanity may come to terms with the dwarf, the troll and even the orc,
&nbsp;terrifying though all these have proved to be at times, and you know why
&nbsp;this is, Drumknott?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;The secretary carefully folded the duster he had been using and looked at
&nbsp;the ceiling.  "I would venture to suggest, my lord, that in their violence
&nbsp;we recognize ourselves?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh, well done, Drumknott, I shall make a cynic of you yet!  Predators
&nbsp;respect other predators, do they not?  They may perhaps even respect the
&nbsp;prey:  the lion may lie down with the lamb, even if only the lion is
&nbsp;likely to get up again, but the lion will not lie down with the rat.
&nbsp;Vermin, Drumknott, an entire race reduced to vermin!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 6
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;Vimes grunted.  "Where there are policemen there's crime, sergeant,
&nbsp;remember that."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Yes, I do, sir, although I think it sounds better with a little reordering
&nbsp;of the words."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 46-47 (passage starts mid-paragraph and ends mid-paragraph; it's a
&nbsp;#           long slog for a weak punchline...)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"[...]  The third earl, 'Mad' Jack Ramkin, had a brother called
&nbsp;Woolsthorpe, probably for his sins.  He was something of a scholar and
&nbsp;would have been sent to the university to become a wizard were it not for
&nbsp;the fact that his brother let it be known that any male sibling of his who
&nbsp;took up a profession that involved wearing a dress would be disinherited
&nbsp;with a cleaver.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Nevertheless, young Woolsthorpe persevered in his studies in natural
&nbsp;philosophy in the way a gentleman should, by digging into any suspicious-
&nbsp;looking burial mounds he could find in the neighborhood, filling up his
&nbsp;lizard press with as many rare species as he could collect, and drying
&nbsp;samples of any flowers he could find before they became extinct.  The
&nbsp;story runs that, on one warm summer day, he dozed off under an apple tree
&nbsp;and was awakened when an apple fell on his head.  A lesser man, as his
&nbsp;biographer put it, would have seen nothing untoward about this, but
&nbsp;Woolsthorpe surmised that, since apples and practically everything else
&nbsp;always fell down, then the world would eventually become dangerously
&nbsp;unbalanced... unless there was another agency involved that natural
&nbsp;philosophy had yet to discover.  He lost no time in dragging one of the
&nbsp;footmen to the orchard and ordering him, on the pain of dismissal, to lie
&nbsp;under the tree until an apple hit him on the head!  The possibility of
&nbsp;this happening was increased by another footman who had been told by
&nbsp;Woolsthorpe to shake the tree vigorously until the required apple fell.
&nbsp;Woolsthorpe was ready to observe this from a distance.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Who can imagine his joy when the inevitable apple fell and a second apple
&nbsp;was seen rising from the tree and disappearing at speed into the vaults of
&nbsp;heaven, proving the hypothesis that what goes up must come down, provided
&nbsp;that what goes down must come up, thus safeguarding the equilibrium of the
&nbsp;Universe.  Regrettably, this only works with apples and, amazingly, only
&nbsp;the apples on this one tree, /Malus equilibria/!  I hear that someone has
&nbsp;worked out that the apples at the top of the tree fill with gas and fly up
&nbsp;when the tree is disturbed so that it can set its seeds some way off.
&nbsp;Wonderful thing, nature, shame the fruit tastes like dog's business,"
&nbsp;Willikins added as Young Sam spat some out.  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 100
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;"Look, Willikins, I don't like to involve you in all this.  It's only a
&nbsp;hunch, after all."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Willikins waved this away.  "You wouldn't keep me out of it for a big
&nbsp;clock, sir, because all this is tickling my fancy as well.  I shall lay
&nbsp;out a selection of cutting edges for you in your dressing room, sir, and I
&nbsp;myself will go up to the copse half an hour before you're due to be there,
&nbsp;with my trusty bow and an assortment of favorite playthings.  It's nearly
&nbsp;full moon, clear skies, there'll be shadows everywhere, and I'll be
&nbsp;standing in the darkest one of them."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Vimes looked at him for a moment and said, "Could I please amend that
&nbsp;suggestion?  Could you not be there in the second darkest shadow one hour
&nbsp;before midnight, to see who steps into the darkest shadow?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ah yes, that's why you command the watch, sir," said Willikins, and to
&nbsp;Vimes's shock there was a hint of a tear in the man's voice.  "You're
&nbsp;listening to the street, aren't you, sir, yes?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Vimes shrugged.  "No streets here, Willikins."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Willikins shook his head.  "Once a street boy, always a street boy, sir.
&nbsp;It comes with us, in the pinch.  Mothers go, fathers go--if we ever knew
&nbsp;who they were--but the Street, well, the Street looks after us.  In the
&nbsp;pinch it keeps us alive."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 116 (passage ends mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;Well, we live and learn, Vimes thought, or perhaps more importantly, we
&nbsp;learn and live.  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 153
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;In the country, there is always somebody watching you, he thought as they
&nbsp;sped along.  Well, there was always somebody watching you in the city, too,
&nbsp;but that was generally in the hope that you might drop dead and they could
&nbsp;run off with your wallet.  They were never /interested/.  But here he
&nbsp;thought he could feel many eyes on him.  Maybe they belonged to squirrels
&nbsp;or badgers, or whatever the damn things were that Vimes heard at night;
&nbsp;gorillas, possibly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 169-170
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;"Well, sir, it looks as though they're pleased to see us, yes?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Feeney's relief and hope should have been bottled and sold to despairing
&nbsp;people everywhere.  Vimes just nodded, because the ranks were pulling
&nbsp;apart, leaving a pathway of sorts, at the end of which there was,
&nbsp;inarguably, a corpse.  It was a mild relief to see that it was a goblin
&nbsp;corpse, but no corpse is good news, particularly when seen in a grimy low
&nbsp;light and especially for the corpse.  And yet something inside him exulted
&nbsp;and cried /Hallelujah!/, because here was a corpse and he was a copper
&nbsp;and this was a crime and this place was smoky and dirty and full of
&nbsp;suspicious-looking goblins and here was a /crime/.  His world.  Yes, here
&nbsp;was /his/ world.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 211
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;Vimes lay back in the bed, enjoying the wonderful sensation of gradually
&nbsp;being eaten by the pillows, and said to Sybil, "Do the Rust family have a
&nbsp;place down here?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Too late he reflected that this might be a bad move because she might well
&nbsp;have told him all about it on one of those occasions when, so unusually for
&nbsp;a married man, he was not paying much attention to what his wife was
&nbsp;saying, and therefore he might be the cause of grumpiness in those
&nbsp;precious, warm minutes before sleep.  All he could see of her right now
&nbsp;was the very tip of her nose, as the pillows claimed her, but she mumbled,
&nbsp;drowsily, "Oh, they bought Hangnail Manor ten years or so ago, after the
&nbsp;Marquis of Fantailer murdered his wife with a pruning knife in the
&nbsp;pineapple house.  Don't you remember?  You spent weeks searching the city
&nbsp;for him.  In the end everybody seemed to think he'd gone off to Fourecks
&nbsp;and disguised himself by not calling himself the Marquis of Fantailer."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Oh yes," said Vimes, "and I remember that a lot of his chums were quite
&nbsp;indignant about the investigation!  They said he'd only done one murder,
&nbsp;and it was his wife's fault for having the bad taste to die after just one
&nbsp;little stab!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 212 (passage starts mid-paragraph and ends mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;[...] he had heard that writers spent all day in their dressing gowns
&nbsp;drinking champagne.(1)  [...]
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) This is, of course, absolutely true.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 217 (passage starts mid-paragraph and ends mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;"[...] and the Summoning Dark is /real/.  It's not all in your head,
&nbsp;commander:  no matter what you hear, I sometimes hear it too.  Oh dear,
&nbsp;you of all people must recognize a substition when you're possessed by it?
&nbsp;It's the opposite of superstition:  it's real even if you don't believe
&nbsp;in it.  [...]"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 233
&nbsp;%passage 13
&nbsp;Vimes frowned.  He couldn't remember ever going into a church or a temple
&nbsp;or one of the numerous other places of more or less spirituality for any
&nbsp;other reason than the occasional requirements of the job.  These days he
&nbsp;tended to go in for reasons of Sybil, i.e., his wife dragging him along
&nbsp;so that he could be seen, and, if possible, seen remaining awake.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;No, the world of next worlds, afterlives, and purgatorial destinations
&nbsp;simply did not fit into his head.  Whether you wanted it or not, you were
&nbsp;born, you did the best you could, and then, whether you really wanted to
&nbsp;or not, you died.  They were the only certainties, and so the best thing
&nbsp;for a copper to do was to get on with the job.  And it was about time
&nbsp;that Sam Vimes got back to doing his.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 254 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 14
&nbsp;[...]  And maybe if I distinguish myself I can get a job in the city, so
&nbsp;that my mum can live in a place where you don't lie awake at night
&nbsp;listening to the mice fighting the cockroaches--hooray!(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Regrettably, Constable Upshot was overly hopeful:  in Ankh-Morpork the
&nbsp;mice and cockroaches had decided to forget their differences and gang up
&nbsp;on the humans.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 403 (passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 15
&nbsp;"[...]  And I remember reading somewhere that you would arrest the gods
&nbsp;for doing it wrong."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Vimes shook his head.  "I'm sure I never said anything of the sort!  But
&nbsp;law is order and order is law and it must be the highest thing.  The world
&nbsp;runs on it, the heavens run on it and without order, lad, one second
&nbsp;cannot follow another."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 404 (footnote)
&nbsp;%passage 16
&nbsp;The sound of the gentle rattle of china cup on china saucer drives away
&nbsp;all demons, a little-known fact.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title Raising Steam (13)
&nbsp;# p. 281 (Anchor Books edition; passage starts mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;[...]  And yesterday you never thought about it and after today you don't
&nbsp;know what you would do without it.  That was what the technology was doing.
&nbsp;It was your slave but, in a sense, it might be the other way round.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Raising Steam, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 358 (passage starts mid-paragraph and ends mid-paragraph; quote is
&nbsp;#         attributed to Lord Vetinari but he's not present in the scene)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;"If you take enough precautions, you never need to take precautions."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Raising Steam, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 57 (Anchor Books edition)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;Rhys Rhysson, Low King of the dwarfs, was a dwarf of keen intelligence,
&nbsp;but he sometimes wondered why someone with that intelligence would go into
&nbsp;dwarfish politics, let alone be King of the Dwarfs.  Lord Vetinari had it
&nbsp;so easy he must hardly know he was born!  The King thought that humans
&nbsp;were, well, reasonably sensible, whereas there was an old dwarf proverb
&nbsp;which, translated, said, "Any three dwarfs having a sensible conversation
&nbsp;will always end up having four points of view."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Raising Steam, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 64
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;Curious, the Patrician thought, as Drumknott hurried away to dispatch a
&nbsp;clacks to the editor of the /Times/, that people in Ankh-Morpork professed
&nbsp;not to like change while at the same time fixating on every new
&nbsp;entertainment and diversion that came their way.  There was nothing the
&nbsp;mob liked better than novelty.  Lord Vetinari sighed again.  Did they
&nbsp;actually think?  These days /everybody/ used the clacks, even little old
&nbsp;ladies who used it to send him clacks messages complaining about all
&nbsp;these newfangled ideas, totally missing the irony.  And in this doleful
&nbsp;mood he ventured to wonder if they ever thought back to when things were
&nbsp;just old-fangled or not fangled at all as against the modern day when
&nbsp;fangled had reached its apogee.  Fangling was indeed, he thought, here
&nbsp;to stay.  Then he wondered: had anyone ever thought of themselves as a
&nbsp;fangler?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Raising Steam, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 175 (third paragraph has a final sentence, but it's about 'grags'
&nbsp;#         which wouldn't make any sense here where's no context about them)
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;"Mister Lipwig, you know what they say about dwarfs?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Moist looked blank.  "Very small people?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"'Two dwarfs is an argument, three dwarfs is a war,' Mister Lipwig.  It's
&nbsp;squabble, squabble, squabble.  It's built into their culture.  [...]"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Raising Steam, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 233 (second paragraph of a footnote)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;There clearly has been magic at work in the Netherglades and its future as
&nbsp;the pharmacopoeia of the world is being tested by Professor Rincewind of
&nbsp;Unseen University.  A dispatch from him reveals that the juice pressed from
&nbsp;a certain little yellow flower induces certainty in the patient for up to
&nbsp;fifteen minutes.  About what they are certain they cannot specify, but the
&nbsp;patient is, in that short time, completely certain about /everything/.  And
&nbsp;further research has found that a floating water hyacinth yields in its
&nbsp;juices total /un/certainty about anything for half a hour.  Philosophers
&nbsp;are excited about the uses for these potions, and the search continues for
&nbsp;a plant that combines the qualities of both, thereby being of great use to
&nbsp;theologians.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Raising Steam, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 288
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;The town of Big Cabbage, theoretically the last place any sensible person
&nbsp;would want to visit, was nevertheless popular throughout the summer because
&nbsp;of the attractions of Brassica World and the Cabbage Research Institute,
&nbsp;whose students were the first to get a cabbage to a height of five hundred
&nbsp;yards propelled entirely by its own juices.  Nobody asked why they felt it
&nbsp;was necessary to do this, but that was science for you, and, of course,
&nbsp;students.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Raising Steam, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 363-364 ("Of the Wheel the Spoke" is the goblin's formal name; perhaps
&nbsp;#              a new name chosen or given after inventing the bicycle?)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;A few weeks later, Drumknott persuaded Lord Vetinari to accompany him to
&nbsp;the area behind the palace where a jungle of drain pipes emptied and
&nbsp;several mismatched sheds, washhouses, and lean-tos housed some of the
&nbsp;necessary functions without which a modern palace could not operate.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There was a young goblin waiting there, rather nervous, clasping what
&nbsp;looked like two wheels held together by not very much.  The wheels were
&nbsp;spinning.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Drumknott cleared his throat.  "Show his lordship your new invention,
&nbsp;Mister Of the Wheel the Spoke."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Frankly most palaces are just like this.  Their backsides do not bear
&nbsp;looking at.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Raising Steam, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;##
&nbsp;# passages 9..13 added after 3.6.0's release
&nbsp;##
&nbsp;# pp. 20-21
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;Moist Von Lipwig had done some heavy work once and couldn't see any future
&nbsp;in it, but he could look at it for hours, provided other people were doing
&nbsp;it, of course, and clearly some of them liked what they were doing, and so
&nbsp;he shrugged and felt happy that Crisp was happy being a handyman whilst
&nbsp;Moist was happy not picking up anything that was heavier than a glass.
&nbsp;After all, his work was unseen and depended on words, which were
&nbsp;fortunately not very heavy and didn't need grease.  In his career as a
&nbsp;crook they had served him well and now he felt somewhat smug at using them
&nbsp;to the benefit of the citizenry.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There was a difference between a banker and a crook, there really was, and
&nbsp;although it was very, very teeny Moist felt that he should point out that
&nbsp;it did exist and, besides, Lord Vetinari always had his eye on him.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;So everybody was happy and Moist went to work in very clean clothes and
&nbsp;with a very clean conscience.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Raising Steam, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 22
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;Harry, red-faced and impatient, looked over his desk and said to him, "Lad,
&nbsp;time is money and I'm a busy man.  You told Nancy down on reception that
&nbsp;you've got something I might like.  Now stop fidgeting and look me in the
&nbsp;face square like.  If you're another chancer wanting to bamboozle me I'll
&nbsp;have you down the Effing stairs(1) before you know it."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) The wonderfully colored oak wood of the Effing Forest was much in
&nbsp;demand for high-class joinery.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Raising Steam, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 80
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;Moist knew about the zeitgeist, he tasted it in the wind, and sometimes it
&nbsp;allowed him to play with it.  He understood it, and now it hinted at speed,
&nbsp;escape, something wonderfully new, the very bones of the land awakening,
&nbsp;and suddenly it seemed to cry out for motion, new horizons, faraway places,
&nbsp;/anywhere that is not here/!  No doubt about it, the railway was going to
&nbsp;turn coal into gold.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Raising Steam, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 195 (passage starts mid-paragraph and ends mid-paragraph)
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;And the trouble with madness was that the mad didn't know they were mad.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Raising Steam, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 284 (passage starts mid-paragraph; speaker is Cmdr Vimes of the Watch)
&nbsp;%passage 13
&nbsp;"[...]  That's the trouble, you see.  When you've had hatred on your tongue
&nbsp;for such a long time, you don't know how to spit it out."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [Raising Steam, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;# Sir Terry Pratchett's final book, published posthumously.
&nbsp;# The story is complete, but the length is substantially shorter than
&nbsp;# other recent Discworld novels.  Presumably it would have been expanded
&nbsp;# if he had had more time to work on it....
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%title The Shepherd's Crown (7)
&nbsp;# pp. 29-30 (Harper edition)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;"It's an inconvenience, true enough, and I don't like it at all, but I
&nbsp;know that you do it for everyone, Mr. Death.  Is there any other way?"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;NO, THERE ISN'T, I'M AFRAID.  WE ARE ALL FLOATING IN THE WINDS OF TIME.
&nbsp;BUT YOUR CANDLE, MISTRESS WEATHERWAX, WILL FLICKER FOR SOME TIME BEFORE
&nbsp;IT GOES OUT--A LITTLE REWARD FOR A LIFE WELL LIVED.  FOR I CAN SEE THE
&nbsp;BALANCE AND YOU HAVE LEFT THE WORLD MUCH BETTER THAN YOU FOUND IT, AND
&nbsp;IF YOU ASK ME, said Death, NOBODY COULD DO ANY BETTER THAN THAT....
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Shepherd's Crown, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 30 ('she' is Miss Tick, a travelling witch who finds new witches;
&nbsp;#        'under water' is spelled as two words; 'ducking' is accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;She sighed.  It was such a shame when old customs disappeared.  A good
&nbsp;witch-ducking was something she had liked doing in the bad old days--she
&nbsp;had even /trained/ for it.  All those swimming lessons, and practice with
&nbsp;knots at the Quirm College for Young Ladies.  She had been able to defeat
&nbsp;the mobs under water if necessary.  Or at least work at breaking her own
&nbsp;record for untying the simple knots they all thought worked on the nasty
&nbsp;witch.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Now, a bit of pond-dipping had become more like a hobby, and she had a
&nbsp;nasty feeling that others were copying her after she passed through their
&nbsp;villages.  She'd even heard talk of a swimming club being started in one
&nbsp;small hamlet over by Ham-on-Rye.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) A popular idea among the young lads, since they felt that everyone--
&nbsp;and "everyone" definitely included the young ladies--should swim without
&nbsp;their clothes.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Shepherd's Crown, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 37 (passage starts mid-paragraph; 'she' is Tiffany Aching)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;Not for the first time, she wondered how it was that cats seemed to be
&nbsp;able to be in one place one moment, and then /almost at the same time/,
&nbsp;reappear somewhere else.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) She did not know it, but a keen young philosopher in Ephebe had
&nbsp;pondered exactly that same conumdrum, until he was found one morning--
&nbsp;most of him, anyway--surrounded by a number of purring, and very well fed,
&nbsp;cats.  No one had seemed keen to continue his experiments after that.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Shepherd's Crown, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# pp. 112-113 (the footnote has a misprint of mismatched quotes: "Chuffley')
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;Roland de Chumsfanleigh,(1) the young Baron on the Chalk /did/ want to be
&nbsp;like his father in many ways.  He knew the old man had been popular--what
&nbsp;was known as an "old-school Baron," which meant that everyone knew what
&nbsp;to expect and the guards polished up their armor and saluted, and did
&nbsp;what was expected of /them/, while the Baron did what was expected of him,
&nbsp;and pretty much left them alone.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;But his father had also been a bit of a bad-tempered bully at times.  And
&nbsp;/that/ bit Roland wanted to forget about.  He particularly wanted to sound
&nbsp;the right note when he called round to see Tiffany Aching at Home Farm.
&nbsp;For they had once been good friends, and to Roland's alarm, Tiffany was
&nbsp;thought of as a good friend by his wife Letitia.  Any man with sense was
&nbsp;wise to be fearful of a wife's best friends.  For who knew what ... little
&nbsp;secrets might be shared.  Roland, having been educated at home and with
&nbsp;limited knowledge of the world outside the Chalk, feared that "little"
&nbsp;might be /exactly/ the kind of comment Letitia might share with Tiffany.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) Pronounced "Chuffley" under the strange rule that the more gentrified
&nbsp;a family is, the more peculiar the pronunciation of their name becomes.
&nbsp;Tiffany had once heard a high-born visitor named Ponsonby-Macklewright
&nbsp;(/Pwt/) refer to Roland as /Chf/.  She wondered how they managed at dinner
&nbsp;when /Pwt/ introduced /Chf/ to /Wm/ or /Hmpfh/.  Surely it could lead to
&nbsp;misunderstandings?
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Shepherd's Crown, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 158
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;He kicked the helmet of his chief, the Big Man of the clan, and shouted,
&nbsp;"There's elves here!  I can smell it, ye ken!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;And from every hole in turn, the clan of the Nac Mac Feegle poured out in
&nbsp;their hundreds to deal with the ancient enemy, waving claymores and swords,
&nbsp;yodeling their war cries:
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Ach, stickit yer trakkans!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Nac Mac Feegle wha hae!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Gae awa' wi' ye, yer bogle!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Gi'e you sich a guid kickin'!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"Nae king!  Nae quin!  We will nae be fooled agin!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There is a concept known as a hustle and bustle, and the Feegles were very
&nbsp;good at it, cheerfully getting in one another's way in the drive to be the
&nbsp;first into battle, and it seemed as if each small warrior had a battle cry
&nbsp;of his own--and he was very ready to fight anyone who tried to take it
&nbsp;away from him.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"How many elves?" asked Rob Anybody, trying to adjust his spog.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;There was a pause.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;"One," said Big Yan sheepishly.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Shepherd's Crown, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 159 (passage starts mid-paragraph. 'oor' is accurate)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;"This elf is oor prisoner.  A hostage, ye ken.  That means ye are nae tae
&nbsp;kill it until ye are told."  He ignored the grumbles from the clan.  "As
&nbsp;tae the rest o' ye, tak guard around yon stones.  And if they come in
&nbsp;force, show them what the Feegles can dae!"
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Daft Wullie said, "I can play the harmonica."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;Rob Anybody sighed.  "Aye, weel, I suppose that puts the willies up me,
&nbsp;so wud likely keep them awa'."
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Shepherd's Crown, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# p. 202
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;Sometimes, Tiffany thought, I am so /fed up/ with being young.(1)
&nbsp;
&nbsp;(1) A thought that she would most certainly grow out of, assuming she
&nbsp;survived long enough.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;  [The Shepherd's Crown, by Terry Pratchett]
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%e section
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#-----------------------------------------------------
&nbsp;# Used for interaction with Death.
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;# Death Quotes are always one line, and '%e passage' can be omitted.
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;%section Death
&nbsp;%title Death Quotes (31)
&nbsp;%passage 1
&nbsp;WHERE THE FIRST PRIMAL CELL WAS, THERE WAS I ALSO. WHERE MAN IS, THERE AM I.  WHEN THE LAST LIFE CRAWLS UNDER FREEZING STARS, THERE WILL I BE.
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# Feet of Clay, p. 17 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 2
&nbsp;I AM DEATH, NOT TAXES.  /I/ TURN UP ONLY ONCE.
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# Men at Arms, p. 27 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 3
&nbsp;THINK OF IT MORE AS BEING ... DIMENSIONALLY DISADVANTAGED.
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# Soul Music, p. 146 (Harper Torch edition; we omit "said Death," after comma)
&nbsp;%passage 4
&nbsp;I MAY HAVE ALLOWED MYSELF SOME FLICKER OF EMOTION IN THE RECENT PAST, BUT I CAN GIVE IT UP ANY TIME I LIKE.
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;%passage 5
&nbsp;# Not a direct quote, but a reference to Thief of Time and the fact that
&nbsp;# the player is War
&nbsp;HAVE YOU SPOKEN TO RONNIE LATELY?
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# Raising Steam, p. 180 (Anchor Books edition)
&nbsp;%passage 6
&nbsp;PLEASE DO NOT PANIC.  YOU ARE MERELY DEAD.
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# Small Gods, p. 90 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 7
&nbsp;THERE IS A LITTLE CONFUSION AT FIRST.  IT IS ONLY TO BE EXPECTED.
&nbsp;%e passage
&nbsp;# Hogfather, p. 343 (Harper Torch edition; Death "lives" outside of normal
&nbsp;#                    time and space)
&nbsp;%passage 8
&nbsp;THERE IS ALWAYS TIME FOR ANOTHER LAST MINUTE.
&nbsp;# Wintersmith, p. 187 (HarperTeen edition; dying Miss Treason takes a ham
&nbsp;# [too silly?]         sandwich with her to the grave, and it accompanies
&nbsp;#                      her to the afterlife, but its condiments don't)
&nbsp;%passage 9
&nbsp;MUSTARD IS ALWAYS TRICKY.
&nbsp;%passage 10
&nbsp;PICKLES OF ALL SORTS DON'T SEEM TO MAKE IT.  I'M SORRY.
&nbsp;# The Colour of Magic, p. 68 (Signet edition)
&nbsp;%passage 11
&nbsp;IT WON'T HURT A BIT.
&nbsp;# p. 177
&nbsp;%passage 12
&nbsp;SHALL WE GO?
&nbsp;# p. 251 (speaker is actually a demon named 'Scrofula' filling in for Death)
&nbsp;%passage 13
&nbsp;I HAVE COME FOR THEE.
&nbsp;# The Light Fantastic, p. 52 (Signet edition; quote has quotation marks but
&nbsp;#                             including them here wouldn't fit with the rest;
&nbsp;#                             Death is addressing an elderly wizard who went
&nbsp;#                             to extreme measures to hide himself [from Death])
&nbsp;%passage 14
&nbsp;DARK IN HERE, ISN'T IT?
&nbsp;# Equal Rites, p. 14 (Signet edition; second sentence continues
&nbsp;#                     'said the deep, heavy voice...')
&nbsp;%passage 15
&nbsp;THERE IS NO GOING BACK.  THERE IS NO GOING BACK.
&nbsp;# p. 15 (contradicts later descriptions of Death as existing outside of time;
&nbsp;#        presumably it's just intended as a colloquial expression)
&nbsp;%passage 16
&nbsp;I HAVEN'T GOT ALL DAY, YOU KNOW.
&nbsp;# p. 15 (same page)
&nbsp;%passage 17
&nbsp;LIFE IS FOR THE LIVING.
&nbsp;# Mort, p. 148 (Signet edition)
&nbsp;%passage 18
&nbsp;NO-ONE EVER WANTED TO TALK TO ME BEFORE.
&nbsp;# p. 149
&nbsp;%passage 19
&nbsp;I HAVEN'T GOT A SINGLE FRIEND.  EVEN CATS FIND ME AMUSING.
&nbsp;# Sourcery, p. 12 (Signet edition)
&nbsp;%passage 20
&nbsp;YOU'RE ONLY PUTTING OFF THE INEVITABLE.
&nbsp;# Wyrd Sisters, p. 11 (ROC edition)
&nbsp;%passage 21
&nbsp;I SAID WAS.  IT'S CALLED THE PAST TENSE.  YOU'LL SOON GET USED TO IT.
&nbsp;# p. 13
&nbsp;%passage 22
&nbsp;DON'T LET IT UPSET YOU.
&nbsp;# Pyramids, p. 57 (ROC edition)
&nbsp;%passage 23
&nbsp;I CAN SEE THAT YOU HAVE GOT A LOT TO THINK ABOUT.
&nbsp;# Eric, p. 134 (Harper Torch edition)
&nbsp;%passage 24
&nbsp;PERHAPS IT'S TIME TO CALL IT A DAY.
&nbsp;# Moving Pictures, p. 260 (ROC edition)
&nbsp;%passage 25
&nbsp;I KNOW WHEN EVERYONE'S HAD ENOUGH.
&nbsp;# Reaper Man, p. 10 (ROC edition)
&nbsp;%passage 26
&nbsp;I HAVE ALWAYS DONE MY DUTY AS I SAW FIT.
&nbsp;# p. 18
&nbsp;%passage 27
&nbsp;I AM NOT KNOWN FOR MY SENSE OF FUN.
&nbsp;# p. 160
&nbsp;%passage 28
&nbsp;I MEAN THAT THERE IS A TIME FOR EVERYONE TO DIE.
&nbsp;# p. 227
&nbsp;%passage 29
&nbsp;JUST BECAUSE SOMETHING IS A METAPHORE DOESN'T MEAN IT CAN'T BE REAL.
&nbsp;# p. 334
&nbsp;%passage 30
&nbsp;I AM ALWAYS ALONE.  BUT JUST NOW I WANT TO BE ALONE BY MYSELF.
&nbsp;# Witches Abroad, p. 298 (Death's explanation why he didn't come for zombie 12
&nbsp;#                         years earlier:  YOU STOPPED LIVING.  YOU NEVER DIED.)
&nbsp;%passage 31
&nbsp;I HAD AN APPOINTMENT WITH YOU TONIGHT.
&nbsp;%e title
&nbsp;%e section
&nbsp;#
&nbsp;#eof