The universe, they say, depended for its operation on the balance of four forces which they identified as charm, persuasion, uncertainty, and bloody-mindedness.

Wizards had always known that the act of observation changed the thing that was observed, and sometimes forgot that it also changed the observer too.

Murder was in fact a fairly uncommon event in Ankh-Morpork, but there were a lot of suicides. Walking in the night-time alleyways of The Shades was suicide. Asking for a short in a dwarf bar was suicide. Saying 'Got rocks in your head?' to a troll was suicide. You could commit suicide very easily, if you weren't careful.

Humans need fantasy to be human.

Tiffany was on the whole quite a truthful person, but it seemed to her that there were times when things didn’t divide easily into ‘true’ and ‘false’, but instead could be ‘things that people needed to know at the moment’ and ‘things that they didn’t need to know at the moment’.

Now Adam slouched alone along the dusty lane. It was a good slouch. Adam had a way of slouching along that offended all right-thinking people. It wasn't that he just allowed his body to droop. He could slouch with inflections, and now the set of his shoulders reflected the hurt and bewilderment of those unjustly thwarted in their selfless desire to help their fellow men.

Hah! Nearly everyone I knows is dead." Mr Weavall stared at the bunch of flowers for a while, then straightened up again. "Still, can't do nothin' about that, can we? Not even for a box of gold!""No, Mr Weavall," said Tiffany hoarsely."Oh, don't cry, gel! The sun is shinin', the birds is singin' and what's past can't be mended, eh?

Susan hated Literature. She'd much prefer to read a good book.

Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.