All things that are, are ours. But we must care. For if we do not care, we do not exist. If we do not exist, then there is nothing but blind oblivion. And even oblivion must end someday. Lord, will you grant me just a little time? For the proper balance of things. To return what was given. For the sake of prisoners and the flight of birds. Death took a step backwards. It was impossible to read expression in azrael's features. Death glanced sideways at the servants. Lord, what can the harvest hope for, if not for the care of the reaper man?
Terry PratchettWhatโs this here,โ he said suspiciously, โabout us got to give you faggots?โ Oh, we have to have them,โ said Newt, โWe burn them.โ Say what?โ We burn them.โ The guardโs face broadened into a grin. And theyโd told him England was soft. โRight on!โ he said
Terry Pratchett