If you had enough money, you could hardly commit crimes at all. You just perpetrated amusing little peccadilloes.

Granny Weatherwax, who had walked nightly without fear in the bandit-haunted forests of the mountains all her life in the certain knowledge that the darkness held nothing more terrible than she was.

I would advise budding writers some other kind of job, unless they think they're very, very lucky.

If my father could have sat up in bed and said goodbye, I'd have pressed the button. I wouldn't have been able to see for crying, but I would have considered that a duty.

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.

And the new day was a great big fish.

Most gods find it hard to walk and think at the same time.