It was also a room full of books and made of books. There was no actual furniture; this is to say, the desk and chairs were shaped out of books. It looked as though many of them were frequently referred to, because they lay open with other books used as bookmarks.

Or -- and this she knew was a far more accurate way of looking at it -- the book was true and reality was lying.

Granny Weatherwax was not a good loser. From her point of view, losing was something that happened to other people.

I mean, I wouldn't pay more than a couple of quid to see me, and I'm me.

Tourist, Rincewind decided, meant ‘idiot.

If you don't know when to be a human being, you don't know when to be a witch.

Lots of people would be as cowardly as me if they were brave enough.