Best 23 quotes in «rincewind quotes» category

Besides…where Rincewind went’ – he lowered his voice – ‘trouble followed behind.’ Ridcully noticed that the wizards drew a little closer together. ‘Sounds all right to me,’ he said. ‘Best place for trouble, behind.

A flicker of defiance flared very briefly in Rincewind's battered heart.

He hated weapons, and not just because they'd so often been aimed at him. You got into more trouble if you had a weapon. People shot you instantly if they thought you were going to shoot them. But if you were unarmed, they often stopped to talk. Admittedly, they tended to say things like, "You'll never guess what we're going to do to you, pal," but that took time. And Rincewind could do a lot with a few more seconds. He could use them to live longer in.

Tourist, Rincewind decided, meant ‘idiot.

Dosflores era un turista, el primero del Mundodisco. Según decidió Rincewind, turista significaba «imbécil».

He’d always felt he had a right to exist as a wizard in the same way that you couldn’t do proper maths without the number 0, which wasn’t a number at all but, if it went away, would leave a lot of larger numbers looking bloody stupid.

I've never known what to do," said Rincewind with hollow cheerfulness. "Been completely at a loss my whole life." He hesitated. "I think it's called being human, or something.

It's rude to stare," said the troll. Its mouth opened with a little crest of foam, and shut again in exactly the same way that water closes over a stone. "Is it? Why?" asked Rincewind. How does he hold himself together, his mind screamed at him. Why doesn't he spill?

He hated weapons, and not just because they'd so often been aimed at him. You got into more trouble if you had a weapon. People shot you instantly if they thought you were going to shoot them.

Perhaps it was the spell, in its years of living in Rincewind's head, that affected his eyes. Perhaps his time with Twoflower, who only saw things as they ought to be, had taught him to see things as they are.

Potrafił nawet - w przeciwieństwie do większości znanych Rincewindowi bohaterów - używać słów dłuższych niż dwusylabowe... jeśli dało mu się dość czasu i podpowiedziało raz czy dwa.

I was supposed to be making some soup," said Rincewind. He waved the onions vaguely. It was probably not the most heroic or purposeful gesture ever made.

Luck is my middle name," said Rincewind, indistinctly. "Mind you, my first name is Bad.

[Rincewind] drew his sword and, with a smooth overarm throw, completely failed to hit the troll.

Rincewind picked up a spare paper and read it. It was headed: Examination for the post of Assistant Night-Soil Operative for the District of W'ung. He read question one. It required candidates to write a sixteen-line poem on evening mist over the reed beds. Question two seemed to be about the use of metaphor in some book Rincewind had never heard of. Then there was a question about music . . . Rincewind turned the paper over a couple of times. There didn't seem to be any mention, anywhere, of words like 'compost' or 'bucket' or 'wheelbarrow'. But presumably all this produced a better class of person than the Ankh-Morpork system, which asked just one question: 'Got your own shovel, have you?

Rincewind wasn't used to people being pleased to see him. It was unnatural, and boded no good. These people were not only cheering, they were throwing flowers and hats. The hats were made out of stone, but the thought was there.

Rincewind had in any case seen his past life flash in front of his eyes so many times that he could sleep through the boring bits.

Still, he’d have to eat something and the dark brown goo that half filled the tin was the only available food in this vicinity that didn’t have at least six legs. He didn’t even think about eating mutton. You couldn’t, when it was looking at you so pathetically. He poked the goo with the stick. It gripped the wood like glue. “Gerroff!” A blob eventually came loose. Rincewind tasted it, gingerly. It was just possible that if you mixed yeasty beer and vegetables together you’d get— No, what you got was salty-tasting beery brown gunk. Odd, though…It was kind of horrible, but nevertheless Rincewind found himself having another taste.

That's old Twoflower, Rincewind thought. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate beauty, he just appreciates it in his own way. I mean, if a poet sees a daffodil he stares at it and writes a long poem about it, but Twoflower wanders off to find a book on botany. He just looks at things, but nothing he looks at is ever the same again. Including me, I suspect.

That bit where that lad sprang backwards right across the room with them axes in his hands was impressive, though." "Yeah." "You didn't ought to have stuck your sword out like that, I thought." "He's learned an important lesson." "It won't do him much good now where he's gone.

Twoflower was a tourist, the first ever seen on the discworld. Tourist, Rincewind had decided, meant 'idiot'.

You see," the tourist went on, "you know that thing you do with seaweed?" Bethan, brought up on the Vortex Plains, had only heard of the sea in stories, and had decided she didn't like it. She looked blank. "Eat it?" "No, what you do is, you hang it up outside your door, and it tells you if it's going to rain." Another thing Bethan had learned was that there was no real point in trying to understand anything Twoflower said, and that all anyone could do was run alongside the conversation and hope to jump on it as it turned a corner. "I see," she said. "Rincewind is like that, you see." "Like seaweed." "Yes. If there was anything at all to be frightened about, he'd be frightened. But he's not. The star is just about the only thing I've ever seen him not frightened of. If he's not worried, then take it from me, there's nothing to be worried about." "It's not going to rain?" said Bethan. "Well, no, metaphorically speaking." "Oh." Bethan decided not to ask what "metaphorically" meant, in case it had something to do with seaweed.

only to people!' shouted Rincewind. He drew his sword and, with a smooth overarm throw, completely failed to hit the troll.