It was raining in the small, mountainous country of Llamedos. It was always raining in Llamedos. Rain was the country's main export. It had rain mines.

Anyway, just because you're sworn enemies doesn't mean you can't be friends, does it?

Rincewind could scream for mercy in nineteen languages, and just scream in another forty-four.

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.

You need to believe in things that aren't true. How else can they become?

Sometimes, the best answer is a more interesting question.

I don’t see why it matters what is written. Not when it’s about people. It can always be crossed out.