Snuff (Discworld, #39; City Watch, #8)

by Terry Pratchett

There was always paperwork. It is well known that any drive to reduce paperwork only results in extra paperwork.

At least he was allowed to leave the city wearing his armor. It was part of him, and just as battered as he was, except that, in the case of the armor the dents could be hammered out.

Everyone should occasionally break the law in some small and delightful way, Drumknott. It’s good for the hygiene of the brain.”

The two women were engrossed in the feminine pastime of taking clothes out of some things, and putting them into other things.

Now, Vimes stuck his head under an enormous pillow and tried not to hear the tremendous and disturbing lack of noise whose absence could wake a man up when he had learned to ignore a carefully timed sound every night for years.

“Oh, Hermione, she may be difficult as she has rather scandalized the family, at least in their opinion.” “How?” “She’s a lumberjack.” Vimes thought for a moment and said, “Well, dear, it is a truth universally acknowledged that a man with a lot of wood must be in want of a wife who can handle a great big—” Lady Sybil interrupted sharply: “Sam Vimes, I believe that you intend to make an indelicate remark?”

Vimes being of the popular persuasion that no jar of pickles is ever truly empty if you rattle the spoon around inside it long enough.

“Yes, but there’s all cow poo! I treaded in it!” Young Sam waited for an adult response, and his mother said, “Well, you’ve got your new country boots, haven’t you? Treading in cow poo is what they’re for.”