And then you bit onto them, and learned once again that Cut-me-own-Throat Dibbler could find a use for bits of an animal that the animal didn't know it had got. Dibbler had worked out that with enough fried onions and mustard people would eat anything.

Are you a philosopher? Where's your sponge?

You have to start out learning to believe the little lies. "So we can believe the big ones?" Yes. Justice, mercy, duty. That sort of thing.

He'd been wrong, there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and it was a flamethrower.

There can be no better grounding for a lifetime as an author than to see humanity in all its various guises through the lens of the reporter for the town.

I don’t think it's weak to admit you made a mistake. That takes strength, if you ask me.

Vimes had got around to a Clean Desk policy. It was a Clean Floor strategy that eluded him at the moment.