Feet of Clay (Discworld, #19; City Watch, #3)

by Terry Pratchett

We work as a team and we’re pretty much making it up as we go along, and half the time we’re not even certain what the law is, so it can get interesting.

“I don’t need to know the time in Klatch.” “You might,” said the imp desperately. “Think how people will be impressed if, during a dull moment of the conversation, you could say ‘Incidentally, in Klatch it’s an hour ago.’ Or Bes Pelargic. Or Ephebe. Ask me. Go on. I don’t mind. Any of those places.”

“Oh, well, if you prefer, I can recognize handwriting,” said the imp proudly. “I’m quite advanced.” Vimes pulled out his notebook and held it up. “Like this?” he said. The imp squinted for a moment. “Yep,” it said. “That’s handwriting, sure enough. Curly bits, spiky bits, all joined together. Yep. Handwriting. I’d recognize it anywhere.”

They thought themselves part of the march of history, the tide of progress and the wave of the future. They were men who felt that The Time Had Come. Regimes can survive barbarian hordes, crazed terrorists and hooded secret societies, but they’re in real trouble when prosperous and anonymous men sit around a big table and think thoughts like that.

The Thieves’ Guild was complaining that Commander Vimes had said publicly that most thefts were committed by thieves.

The real world was far too real to leave neat little hints. It was full of too many things. It wasn’t by eliminating the impossible that you got at the truth, however improbable; it was by the much harder process of eliminating the possibilities.

People said that there was one law for the rich and one law for the poor, but it wasn’t true. There was no law for those who made the law, and no law for the incorrigibly lawless. All the laws and rules were for those people stupid enough to think like Cockbill Street people.

There were no public health laws in Ankh-Morpork. It would be like installing smoke detectors in Hell.

A dollar for a human bought a loaf of bread that was eaten in a few bites. The same dollar for Wee Mad Arthur bought the same-sized loaf, but it was food for a week and could then be further hollowed out and used as a bedroom.

There might be a time, the footman thought, when it paid to hitch your wagon to a star, even if said star was a red dwarf.

Two of the dwarfs stormed off towards the locker-room. Another one hurried after them, but hesitated as he drew level with the desk. He gave Cheri a frantic look. “Er . . . er . . . nice ankles, though,” he said, and then ran.

Cheri was shaking with nervousness. “Don’t you say a thing about my legs!” she said, waving a finger. “Er . . .” The dwarf looked around hurriedly, and leaned forward. “Er . . . is that . . . lipstick?” “Yes! What about it?” “Er . . .” The dwarf leaned forward even more, looked around again, this time conspiratorially, and lowered her voice. “Er . . . could I try it?”

Someone has to be very complex indeed to be as simple as Carrot.

Nobby had spent a lifetime in one uniform or another. And one of the most basic lessons he’d learned was that men with red faces and plummy voices never ever gave cushy numbers to the likes of Nobby. They’d ask for volunteers to do something “big and clean” and you’d end up scrubbing some damn great drawbridge; they’d say, “Anyone here like good food?” and you’d be peeling potatoes for a week.

There was always a snag. If a choir of angels asked for volunteers for Paradise to step forward, Nobby knew enough to take one smart pace to the rear. When the call came for Corporal Nobbs, it would not find him wanting. It would not find him at all.

Only crimes could take place in darkness. Punishment had to be done in the light. That was the job of a good Watchman, Carrot always said. To light a candle in the dark.

“Commander, I always used to consider that you had a definite anti-authoritarian streak in you.” “Sir?” “It seems that you have managed to retain this even though you are Authority.” “Sir?” “That’s practically Zen.”

“You Say To People ‘Throw Off Your Chains’ And They Make New Chains For Themselves?” “Seems to be a major human activity, yes.”