The figures looked more or less human. And they were engaged in religion. You could tell by the knives (it's not murder if you do it for a god).

Find the story, Granny Weatherwax always said. She believed that the world was full of story shapes. If you let them, they controlled you. But if you studied them, if you found out about them... you could use them, you could change them.

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

He was the sort of person who stood on mountaintops during thunderstorms in wet copper armour shouting 'All the Gods are bastards.'

The thing about words is that meanings can twist just like a snake, and if you want to find snakes look for them behind words that have changed their meaning.

Seeing, contrary to popular wisdom, isn't believing. It's where belief stops, because it isn't needed any more.

Albert grunted. "Do you know what happens to lads who ask too many questions?" Mort thought for a moment. "No," he said eventually, "what?" There was silence. Then Albert straightened up and said, "Damned if I know. Probably they get answers, and serve 'em right.