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

by Terry Pratchett

Time and again he cross-examined himself mercilessly. Had he cheated? Not exactly. Had he misled? Not exactly. Had he acted as a policeman should? Well, now, that was the question, wasn’t it?

what’s beer but liquid bread, eh? And bread can’t do you no harm.

They’ve all got watches and I know they’ll have synchronized them, even if they don’t know how to spell synchronize.

And country people liked a spectacle, or even a serious death, just like city people.

“Bad things have been done. Bad things have been ordered. Bad orders have been obeyed. But they never will be again . . .will they, ladies and gentlemen? Because there needs to be a law, but before there is a law, there has to be a crime!”

The law is there for the people, rather than the other way round. When it is the other way round don’t hesitate to grab your weapons,

Of course, some of it might have been cheer at the fact that there was now some justice in the world, but on the whole it was quite likely that the bar won the day. You didn’t have to be a cynic, you just had to understand people.

I’ve merely made certain that nobody can inadvertently leave before I’ve had a chance to talk to them all, do you understand? I’m not the judge and nor would I be allowed to sit on a jury.

I’m not even certain what the penalty is for being stupid, vain and unthinking,

“I’d like to see that murderers, if such I might find, are seen and dealt with as murderers, and the frightened and unthinking obedient also treated as they deserve. And right now, sir, I’d just like to not be living in a world of bloody fools.

Too many skeletons, you see, too many cupboards. Too many things around the world that maybe happened too long ago. What in the world can you do if some copper is going to go around digging them up? That’s called realpolitik,

It didn’t really matter where he went; after all, he knew no one had ever given a description of him that helped. It was a gift to be indescribable.

You’re just a killer. Worthless. A bully. I fight because I might get killed and the other bloke might win, or maybe we’d both end up in the gutter, too weak to throw another punch, when, quite likely, we’d prop each other up and go to the pub for a drink and a wash.”

there has to be some justice in the world, you see, not necessarily law justice, but justice justice, and that’s why I am going to kill you.

But they were a cunning bunch, poets, and could sneak it up on you when your back was turned.

because of a piece of music, Vimes, a piece of music, some very powerful states have agreed to work together to heal the problems of another autonomous state and, almost as collateral, turn some animals into people at a stroke. Can you imagine that, Vimes? In what world could that possibly happen? All because of a song at twilight, Vimes. All because of a song. It was a thing of strangely tinkling tones and unbelievable cadences which somehow found its way into our souls, reminding some of us that we have some.

sometimes your expression becomes so wooden that I think I could make a table out of it.

The truth will be known and written down in the history books.” Vetinari gave a wan smile. “It will, I shall see to it.

The man’s face so assiduously betrayed nothing that it betrayed everything.

“They do say, sir, that in the end all sins are forgiven?” Reluctantly, Havelock, Lord Vetinari tore his recollection away from the wondrous music that he longed to hear again. “Not all, Drumknott, not all.”

“Once you get past the stupid Fred there is, against all expectations, a decent man there.”