Carpe Jugulum (Discworld, #23; Witches, #6)

by Terry Pratchett

It was made up of very small blue men, some wearing pointy blue caps but most of them with their red hair uncovered.

Crivens!!!

The reward for toil had been more toil. If you dug the best ditches, they gave you a bigger shovel.

“But if I was fifty years younger I reckon I could have Sonny Jim bitin’ turnips by midsummer.”

“There’s no grays, only white that’s got grubby. I’m surprised you don’t know that. And sin, young man, is when you treat people as things. Including yourself. That’s what sin is.”

It read: HLISTEN TO ZER CHILTREN OFF DER NIGHT . . . VOT VONDERFUL MHUSICK DEY MAKE. MNFTRD. BY BERGHOLT STUTTLEY JOHNSON, ANKH-MORPORK.

“I haven’t got my hands on a Johnson for ages . . .” She looked closer. “What’s this?

I ain’t been vampired. You’ve been Weatherwaxed.