And he dreamed the dream of all those who publish books, which was to have so much gold in your pockets that you would have to employ two people just to hold your trousers up.

You couldn't say 'I had orders.' You couldn't say 'It's not fair.' No one was listening. There were no Words. You owned yourself. [...] Not 'Thou Shalt Not'. Say 'I Will Not'.

I can see we're going to get along like a house on fire," said Miss Tick. "There may be no survivors.

But that was just it - hate was exactly the right word. Hate is a force of attraction. Hate is just love with its back turned.

Welcome to fear, said Moist to himself. It's hope, turned inside out. You know it can't go wrong, you're sure it can't go wrong... But it might.

Genius is always allowed some leeway, once the hammer has been pried from its hands and the blood has been cleaned up.

All holy piety in public, and all peeled grapes and self-indulgence in private.