Imagination, not intelligence, made us human.

Do you not know that a man is not dead while his name is still spoken?

Death was standing behind a lectern, poring over a map. He looked at Mort as if he wasn’t entirely there. You haven't heard of the bayof mante, have you? He said. “No, sir,” said Mort. Famous shipwreck there. “Was there?” there will be, said Death, if I can find the damn place.

The wages of sin is death but so is the salary of virtue, and at least the evil get to go home early on Fridays.

Just because something is a metaphor doesn't mean it can't be real.

It was sad, like those businessmen who came to work in serious clothes but wore colorful ties in a mad, desperate attempt to show there was a free spirit in there somewhere.

Rincewind tried to force the memory out of his mind, but it was rather enjoying itself there, terrorizing the other occupants and kicking over the furniture.