Sourcery (Discworld, #5; Rincewind, #3)

by Terry Pratchett

And what would humans be without love?” RARE, said Death. NEVERTHELESS—

“I meant,” said Ipslore, bitterly, “what is there in this world that makes living worthwhile?” Death thought about it. CATS, he said eventually, CATS ARE NICE.

After its initial panic the Library was now as alert and jittery as a long-tailed cat in a rocking-chair factory.

He didn’t administer a reign of terror, just the occasional light shower.

It is a well-known established fact throughout the many-dimensional worlds of the multiverse that most really great discoveries are owed to one brief moment of inspiration. There’s a lot of spadework first, of course, but what clinches the whole thing is the sight of, say, a falling apple or a boiling kettle or the water slopping over the edge of the bath. Something goes click inside the observer’s head and then everything falls into place.

“I’m not going to ride on a magic carpet!” he hissed. “I’m afraid of grounds!” “You mean heights,” said Conina. “And stop being silly.” “I know what I mean! It’s the grounds that kill you!”

Take it from me, there’s nothing more terrible than someone out to do the world a favor.