Small Gods (Discworld, #13)

by Terry Pratchett

“Have you ever heard,” he said, “of Ethics?” “Somewhere in Howondaland, isn’t it?” “The Ephebians were very interested in it.” “Probably thinking about invading.” “They seemed to think about it a lot.” “Long-term strategy, maybe.” “I don’t think it’s a place, though. It’s more to do with how people live.” “What, lolling around all day while slaves do the real work? Take it from me, whenever you see a bunch of buggers puttering around talking about truth and beauty and the best way of attacking Ethics, you can bet your sandals it’s because dozens of other poor buggers are doing all the real work around the place while those fellows are living like—” “—gods?” said Brutha. There was a terrible silence. “I was going to say kings,” said Om, reproachfully. “They sound a bit like gods.” “Kings,” said Om emphatically. “Why do people need gods?” Brutha persisted. “Oh, you’ve got to have gods,” said Om, in a hearty, no-nonsense voice. “But it’s gods that need people,” said Brutha. “To do the believing. You said.” Om hesitated. “Well, okay,” he said. “But people have got to believe in something. Yes? I mean, why else does it thunder?” “Thunder,” said Brutha, his eyes glazing slightly, “I don’t— “—is caused by clouds banging together; after the lightning stroke, there is a hole in the air, and thus the sound is engendered by the clouds rushing to fill the hole and colliding, in accordance with strict cumulodynamic principles.” “Your voice goes funny when you’re quoting,” said Om. “Wha...