I wrote three books, I had three greenhouses. It seemed to me to be very satisfactory.

The 'New Testament', now, I quite liked. Jesus had a lot of good things to say, and as for his father, he must have been highly thought of by the community to work with wood - a material that couldn't have been widely available in Palestine.

A world like that, which exists only because the gods enjoy a joke, must be a place where magic can survive. And sex too, of course.

You have to start out learning to believe the little lies. "So we can believe the big ones?" Yes. Justice, mercy, duty. That sort of thing.

Wizards don't believe in gods in the same way that most people don't find it necessary to believe in, say, tables. They know they're there, they know they're there for a purpose, they'd probably agree that they have a place in a well-organised universe, but they wouldn't see the point of believing, of going around saying "O great table, without whom we are as naught." Anyway, either the gods are there whether you believe in them or not, or exist only as a function of the belief, so either way you might as well ignore the whole business and, as it were, eat off your knees.

No more words. We know them all, all the words that should not be said. But you have made my world more perfect.

He felt as if he had been shipwrecked on the Titanic, but in the nick of time had been rescued. By the Lusitania