Logic is a wonderful thing but doesn't always beat actual thought.

You see the lighted windows and what you want to think is that there may be many interesting stories behind them, but what you know is that really there are just dull, dull souls, mere consumers of food, who think their instincts are emotions and their tiny lives of more account than a whisper of wind.

He was currently wondering vaguely who Moey and Chandon were.

They were also slightly less intelligent than he was. This is a quality you should always pray for in your would-be murderer.

He's out of his depth on a wet pavement.

These people were not only cheering, they were throwing flowers and hats. The hats were made of stone, but the thought was there.

Nanny Ogg never did any housework herself, but she was the cause of housework in other people.