More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“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.
YOU’RE ONLY PUTTING OFF THE INEVITABLE, he said. That’s what being alive is all about.
He was tall and wiry and looked as though he had been a horse in previous lives and had only just avoided it in this one. He always gave people the impression that he was looking at them with his teeth.
if a few quiet beers wouldn’t allow him to see things in a different light, then a few more probably would. It was certainly worth a try.
“No, really, I’m a terrible coward, I always run away.” Rincewind’s chest heaved. “Danger has stared me in the back of the head, oh, hundreds of times!”
Standing side by side they looked almost exactly like the number 10.
He looked the kind of person who, when they blink, you mark it off on the calendar.
He didn’t administer a reign of terror, just the occasional light shower.
Their dull splashing was the only sound that broke the cholesterol of silence that had the heart of the city in its grip.
Little particles of inspiration sleet through the universe all the time traveling through the densest matter in the same way that a neutrino passes through a candyfloss haystack, and most of them miss. Even worse, most of the ones that hit the exact cerebral target hit the wrong one.
Look, just shut up, will I? I’ve had just about enough of me.
With fifty years ahead of him, he thought, he could elevate tedium to the status of an art form. There would be no end to the things he wouldn’t do.
he walked as though his body was hanging down from his head.
In the bathtub of history the truth is harder to hold than the soap,
“Being useful always gets me into trouble,” muttered Rincewind,
“Shh!” said Conina. “I can’t hear anything,” said Nijel loudly. Nijel was one of those people who, if you say “don’t look now,” would immediately swivel his head like an owl on a turntable. These are the same people who, when you point out, say, an unusual crocus just beside them, turn around aimlessly and put their foot down with a sad little squashy noise.
Rincewind wasn’t very good at precognition; in fact he could barely see into the present.
“Yes, wizards are good at getting you out of the sort of trouble that only wizards can get you into,” said Creosote. “Then they expect you to thank them.”
Take it from me, there’s nothing more terrible than someone out to do the world a favor.
All he had was nothing, but that was something, and now it had been taken away.
They listened in awe, like fish who had inadvertently swum into a lecture on how to fly.
“I don’t know what to do,” he said. “No harm in that. I’ve never known what to do,” said Rincewind with hollow cheerfulness. “Been completely at a loss my whole life.” He hesitated. “I think it’s called being human, or something.”
It’s vital to remember who you really are. It’s very important. It isn’t a good idea to rely on other people or things to do it for you, you see. They always get it wrong.”
