I meant," said Ipslore bitterly, "what is there in this world that truly makes living worthwhile?" Death thought about it. CATS, he said eventually. CATS ARE NICE.

You'll see! We're going to the palace. Fetch Angua. We might need her. And bring the search warrant. You mean the sledgehammer, sir? Yes.

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

"Multiple exclamation marks," he went on, shaking his head, "are a sure sign of a diseased mind."

What do you call those things at the bottom of rivers? Frogs? Stones? Unsuccessful gangsters?

And our lady friend, she thinks life works like a fairy tale.' Well, that’s harmless, isn’t it?' Yeah, but in fairy tales, when someone dies... it’s just a word.

Some people think this is paranoia, but it isn't. Paranoids only think everyone is out to get them. Wizards know it.