The beef stew tasted, indeed, just like beef stew and not, just to take an example completely and totally at random, stew made out of the last poor girl who'd worked here.

When I was child they thought I was twins,' she said over one of her shoulders. 'And then... they thought I was evil,' she said over another shoulder.'Are you?' said Tiffany.Both of Miss Level turned round, looking shocked.'What kind of question is that to ask anyone?' she said.'Um... the obvious one?' said Tiffany. 'I mean, if they said "Yes I am! Mwahahaha!", that would save a lot of trouble, wouldn't it?

Rincewind tried to scream through gritted teeth. His ankles were already beginning to sweat.'I'm not going to ride on a magic carpet!' he hissed. 'I'm afraid of grounds!''You mean heights,' said Conina. 'And stop being silly.''I know what I mean! It's the grounds that kill you!

The door's locked," said the Fool. "There's all sorts of noises, but the door's locked.""Well, it's a dungeon, isn't it?""They're not supposed to lock from the inside!

If you kill me a thousand will take my place,‘ said the man, who was now backed against a wall.‘Yes,‘ said Cohen, in a reasonable tone of voice, ’but that isn’t the point, is it? The point is, you’ll be dead.

But there's magic too. You'll pick that up. It don't take much intelligence, otherwise wizards wouldn't be able to do it.

Rincewind formed a mental picture of some strange entity living in a castle made of teeth. It was the kind of mental picture you tried to forget. Unsuccessfully.'Urgh,' he said.

Rincewind shivered. He always began to worry when Twoflower started to talk like that. At least he hadn't said 'picturesque' or 'quaint' yet; Rincewind had never found a satisfactory translation for those words, but the nearest he had been able to come was 'trouble'.

His name's Twoflower. He isn't from these parts.''Doeshn't look like it. Friend of yoursh?''We've got this sort of hate-hate relationship, yes.