History has a habit of changing the people who think they are changing it

This time it had been magic. And it didn't stop being magic just because you found out how it was done.

She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close.

Of course, like all the informal inhabitants of the University the roaches were a little unusual, but there was something particularly unpleasant about the sound of billions of very small feet hitting the stones in perfect time. Rincewind stepped gingerly over the marching column. The Librarian jumped it. The Luggage, of course, followed them with a noise like someone tapdancing over a bag of crisps.

The more you think about it, the more amazing the everyday world of human beings becomes: most of it doesn't actually exist at all.

When you're all singing together, it brings things together. I know the songs that my grandfather and my father sang.

Strength enough to build a home, Time enough to hold a child, Love enough to break a heart