Rings try to find their way back to their owner. Someone ought to write a book about it.

I’m not superstitious. I’m a witch. Witches aren’t superstitious. We are what people are superstitious of.

It was amazing how many friends you could make by being bad at things, provided you were bad enough to be funny.

Haven't you got any romance in your soul?" said Magrat plaintively. "No," said Granny. "I ain't. And stars don't care what you wish, and magic don't make things better, and no one doesn't get burned who sticks their hand in a fire. If you want to amount to anything as a witch, Magrat Garlick, you got to learn three things. What's real, what's not real, and what's the difference.

Who'd want a pony when you could have the whole universe? It was far more interesting and you didn't have to muck it out once a week.

But…but you can’t treat religion as a sort of buffet, can you? I mean, you can’t say yes please, I’ll have some of the Celestial Paradise and a helping of the Divine Plan but go easy on the kneeling and none of the Prohibition of Images, they give me wind. Its table d´hôte or nothing, otherwise…well, it would be silly.

It is a long-cherished tradition among a certain type of military thinker that huge casualties are the main thing. If they are on the other side then this is a valuable bonus.