She walked quickly through the darkness with the frank stride of someone who was at least certain that the forest, on this damp and windy night, contained strange and terrible things and she was it.

Matter exploded into being, apparently as chaos, but in fact as a chord. The ultimate power chord.

Where's the pleasure in bein' the winner if the loser ain't alive to know they've lost?

A good bookshop is just a genteel Black Hole that knows how to read.

I don't want unnecessary violence, sergeant," said Blouse. "Right you are, sir!" said the sergeant. "Carborundum! First man comes through that door runnin', I want him nailed to the wall!" He caught the lieutenant's eye, and added: "But not too hard!

What was supposed to be so special about a full moon? It was only a big circle of light. And the dark of the moon was only darkness. But halfway between the two, when the moon was between the worlds of light and dark, when even the moon lived on the edge...maybe then a witch could believe in the moon.

Granny Weatherwax was firmly against fiction. Life was hard enough without lies floating around and changing the way people thought.