Men at Arms (Discworld, #15; City Watch, #2)
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Read between August 1 - October 11, 2023
1%
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Individuals aren’t naturally paid-up members of the human race, except biologically. They need to be bounced around by the Brownian motion of society, which is a mechanism by which human beings constantly remind one another that they are…well…human beings.
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He could think in italics. Such people need watching. Preferably from a safe distance.
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“One minute walking along, the next minute dead. Why?” THINK OF IT MORE AS BEING…DIMENSIONALLY DISADVANTAGED.
8%
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The Ramkins were more highly bred than a hilltop bakery, whereas Corporal Nobbs had been disqualified from the human race for shoving.
11%
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Where people went wrong was thinking that simple meant the same thing as stupid. Carrot was not stupid. He was direct, and honest, and good-natured and honorable in all his dealings.
11%
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“it’s always very tricky, ethnic.” “Can put a foot wrong very easily,” said Nobby. “Very thin-skinned, your basic ethnic.”
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Young Carrot had to fight young women off with a stick.
12%
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Don’t worry too much about love, that’s a dicey word for the over-forties.
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“Let us in, in the name of the law!” bellowed Vimes. The Assassin smiled nervously at him. “The law is that Guild law prevails inside Guild walls,” he said. Vimes glared at him. But it was true. The laws of the city, such as they were, stopped outside the Guild Houses. The Guilds had their own laws. The Guild owned the…
13%
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In fact non-descript was not what it was. It was very easy to descript. It looked like halitosis with a wet nose.
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“Hah! Your uniform doesn’t scare me,” he said. Vimes looked down at his battered breastplate and worn mail. “You’re right,” he said. “This is not a scary uniform. I’m sorry. Forward, Corporal Carrot and Lance-Constable Detritus.” The Assassin was suddenly aware of the sunlight being blocked out.
13%
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just finds a cushy spot to spend my nights along at the High Energy Magic building at the University, no one told me about all this bloody magic leaking out the whole time, next thing I know I open me eyes, head starts fizzing like a dose of salts, oh-oh, thinks I, here we go again, hello abstract conceptualizing, intellectual development here we come…What bloody use is that to me? Larst time it happened, I ended up savin’ the world from horrible wossnames from the Dungeon Dimensions, and did anyone say fanks? Wot a Good Dog, Give Him A Bone? Har har.” It held up a threadbare paw. “My name’s ...more
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A man can be defined by the things he hates.
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A couple of Assassins glanced at Dr. Cruces and reached nonchalantly toward various areas of their clothing. He shook his head. His caution might have had something to do with the way Carrot put his hand on the hilt of his sword, but it could also have been because Assassins did have a certain code, after all. It was dishonorable to kill someone if you weren’t being paid.
16%
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Angua shrugged. Carrot noticed how interestingly her chest moved.
17%
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For several years he hadn’t moved outside a large, airy room, but this was OK, because he spent most of his time inside his own head in any case.
17%
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He had, however, surmised that an hour’s exercise every day was essential for a healthy appetite and proper bowel movements,
19%
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Besides, when you hit your thumb with an eight-pound hammer it’s nice to be able to blaspheme. It takes a very special and strong-minded kind of atheist to jump up and down with their hand clasped under their other armpit and shout, “Oh, random fluctuations-in-the-space-time-contiuum!” or “Aaargh, primitive-and-outmoded-concept on a crutch!”
22%
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“Mayonnaise Quirke couldn’t find his arse with an atlas!
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like a mighty sequoia beginning the first step towards resurrection as a million Save The Trees leaflets,
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‘The City Watche Needs Men! Be A Man In The City Watch!’ So I thought I’d give it a go. After all, I’d only have something to gain.”
26%
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Scoone Avenue was higher than most of Morpork and offered unrivalled views of the city, if that was your idea of a good time.
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Vimes would arrest all wizards on suspicion of being too bloody clever by half.
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He’d faced trolls and dwarfs and dragons, but now he was having to meet an entirely new species. The rich.
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“Chief Barker of the Dog Guild.”
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If you had enough money, you could hardly commit crimes at all. You just perpetrated amusing little peccadilloes.
34%
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“Oh, not an idiot,” said Silverfish, picking up a billiard ball that had miraculously escaped the detonations. “Just so sharp he kept cutting himself, as my granny used to say.
37%
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There was a brown wardrobe. Possibly, if you fought your way through the mysterious old coats* hanging in it, you’d break through into a magical fairyland full of talking animals and goblins, but it’d probably not be worth it.
40%
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So many crimes are solved by a happy accident—by the random stopping of a car, by an overheard remark, by someone of the right nationality happening to be within five miles of the scene of the crime without an alibi…
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You expected him any moment to break into the kind of song that has suspicious rhymes and phrases like “my kind of town” and “I wanna be a part of it” in it;
43%
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“There are…one tousand. Three hundret. Six-ty. Four bricks.”
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it is almost impossible for anyone to be in a street without breaking the law. There are a whole quiverful of offenses available to a policeman who wishes to pass the time of day with a citizen, ranging from Loitering with Intent through Obstruction to Lingering
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Vetinari looked like a carnivorous flamingo.
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Carrot read books in his spare time. Not well. He’d have real difficulty if you cut his index finger off. But continuously.
48%
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Inspirations sleet through the universe continuously. Their destination, as if they cared, is the right mind in the right place at the right time.
48%
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Leonard of Quirm knew about inspirations. One of his earliest inventions was an earthed metal nightcap,
48%
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The da Quirms had been quite rich and young Leonard had been to a great many schools, where he had absorbed a ragbag of information despite his habit of staring out of the window and sketching the flight of birds. Leonard was one of those unfortunate individuals whose fate it was to be fascinated by the world, the taste, shape and movement of it…
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“Oook.” “What him say?” “He said ‘Do Deformed Rabbit, it’s my favorite’,” Carrot translated.
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“No! I mean, no. I mean, I don’t mean well-endowed with money. I mean…” Nobby whispered again. Cuddy’s expression didn’t change. Nobby waggled his eyebrows. “True, is it?”
70%
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Colon bit his lip. He was not, as such, a coward. Last year the city had been invaded by a dragon and he’d actually stood on a rooftop and fired arrows at it while it was bearing down on him with its mouth open, although admittedly he’d had to change his underwear afterwards.
71%
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As for Gaspode, he was resigning himself to a life without love, or at least any more than the practical affection experienced so far, which had consisted of an unsuspecting chihuahua and a brief liaison with a postman’s leg.
71%
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noble homes that had big floppy dogs around the place in the same way that lesser folk have rugs,
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Downey looked uncomfortable. “Doctor, I think—” “Think? You’re not paid to think! Heaven knows where the idiot has got to. I ordered the Guild searched! Why didn’t anyone force the door?” “Sorry, doctor, Edward left us weeks ago and I didn’t think—” “You didn’t think? What are you paid for?”
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“There’s a name that tolls a bell,” said Gaspode. “Family used to live up Kingsway. Used to be as rich as Creosote.” “Who was Creosote?” “Some foreign bugger who was rich.”
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“Have you got any previous convictions?” “Well, I dunno…I suppose I used to believe very firmly that a penny saved is a penny earned—”
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“No, mad’s when you froth at the mouf,” said Gaspode. “He’s insane. That’s when you froth at the brain.”
81%
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“Clever Dog Saves The Day,” he muttered. “Everyone Says, Good Doggy. No they don’t, I’m only doing it ’cos I was threatened. The Marvelous Nose. I didn’t want to do this. You Shall Have A Bone. I’m just flotsam on the sea of life, me. Who’s a Good Boy? Shut up.”
83%
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He wasn’t exactly an atheist, because atheism was a non-survival trait on a world with several thousand gods. He just didn’t like any of them very much, and didn’t see what business it was of theirs that he was getting married.
83%
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they could just make out the opening and extremely bent bars of Fondel’s “Wedding March”, being played with gusto by someone who’d discovered that the instrument didn’t just have three keyboards but a whole range of special acoustic effects, ranging from Flatulence to Humorous Chicken Squawk. The occasional “oook!” of appreciation could be heard amidst the sonic explosion.
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Who built it?” “I don’t know! But it’s got the name B.S. Johnson on the keyboard cover!”
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