The most important thing was that time had passed, pouring thousands of soothing seconds across the island. People need time to deal with the now before it runs away and becomes the then.

The trouble with thinking was that, once you started, you went on doing it.

And it came to pass that in time the Great God Om spake unto Brutha, the Chosen One: "Psst!

Granny Weatherwax was not lost. She wasn't the kind of person who ever became lost. It was just that, at the moment, while she knew exactly where SHE was, she didn't know the position of anywhere else.

It was nice to hear the voices of little children at play, provided you took care to be far enough away not to hear what they were actually saying.

And so the children of the revolution were faced with the age-old problem: it wasn't that you had the wrong kind of government, which was obvious, but that you had the wrong kind of people. As soon as you saw people as things to be measured, they didn't measure up.

My name is immaterial,' she said. That's a pretty name,' said Rincewind.