Last hopeless chances have got to work. Nothing makes sense otherwise. You might as well not be alive.

What is normal? Normal was yesterday. If you lose a leg, one day you're hopping around on one leg, so you know the difference.

It was written in some holy book, apparently, so that made it okay, and probably compulsory.

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.

I have no use for people who have learned the limits of the possible.

When a man is tired of Ankh-Morpork, he is tired of ankle-deep slurry.

This isn't life in the fast lane, it's life in the oncoming traffic.