Dear Ladies, Gentlemen, and Other:
Write.
Just write.
That is all.
People have always been dimly aware of the problem with the start of things. They wonder aloud how the snowplow driver gets to work, or how the makers of dictionaries look up the spellings of the words. Yet there is the constant desire to find some point in the twisting, knotting, raveling nets of space-time on which a metaphorical finger can be put to indicate that here, here, is the point where it all began…
“
| — | Terry Pratchett, Hogfather |
“Where did you say your business was?” said Lezek. “Is it far?”
NO FURTHER THAN THE THICKNESS OF A SHADOW, said Death. WHERE THE FIRST PRIMAL CELL WAS, THERE WAS I ALSO. WHERE MAN IS, THERE AM I. WHEN THE LAST LIFE CRAWLS UNDER FREEZING STARS, THERE WILL I BE.
“Ah,” said Lezek, “you get about a bit, then.”
- Terry Pratchett, Mort
The Nac Mac Feegle were always looking for a fight, in a cheerful sort of way, and when they had no one to fight they fought one another, and if one was all by himself he’d kick his own nose just to keep in practice.
“
| — | Terry Pratchett, A Hat Full of Sky |
“There’s stranger people in this world than Corporal Nobbs, my lad.”
Carrot’s expression slid into a rictus of intrigued horror.
“Gosh,” he said.
— Terry Pratchett, Men at Arms
I’m certain that sacred cats that live surrounded by endless sand don’t come indoors and do it in the king’s sandals, Dios.
“
| — | Terry Pratchett, Pyramids |
“And he won’t die?”
“Apparently he can be kept merely…unwell. The dosage can be varied, I’m told.”
“Good. I’d rather have him unwell than dead. I wouldn’t trust Vetinari to stay in a grave.”
“I’ve heard that he once said he’d prefer to be cremated, as a matter of fact.”
“Then I just hope they scatter the ashes really widely, that’s all.”
— Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
“You got a license, mate?”
“Llicense?” said Imp.
“Very hot on licenses, the Guild of Musicians,” said Nobby. “They catch you playing music without a license, they take your instrument and they shove—”
“Now, now,” said the other watchman. “Don’t go scaring the boy.”
“Let’s just say it’s not much fun if you’re a piccolo player,” said Nobby.
— Terry Pratchett, Soul Music
Poets have tried to describe Ankh-Morpork. They have failed. Perhaps it’s the sheer zestful vitality of the place, or maybe it’s just that a city with a million inhabitants and no sewers is rather robust for poets, who prefer daffodils and no wonder.
“
| — | — Terry Pratchett, Mort |
Rincewind sighed. He liked lettuce. It was so incredibly boring. He had spent years in search of boredom, but had never achieved it. Just when he thought he had it in his grasp his life would suddenly become full of near-terminal interest. The thought that someone could voluntarily give up the prospect of being bored for fifty years made him feel quite weak. With fifty years ahead of him, he thought, he could elevate tedium to the status of an art form. There would be no end to the things he wouldn’t do.
“
| — | - Terry Pratchett, Sourcery |
There’s a saying that all roads lead to Ankh-Morpork, greatest of Discworld cities…
…And it’s wrong. All roads lead away from Ankh-Morpork, but sometimes people just walk along them the wrong way.
— Terry Pratchett, Moving Pictures
