Best 199 quotes in «discworld quotes» category

Getting an education was a bit like a communicable sexual disease. It made you unsuitable for a lot of jobs and then you had the urge to pass it on.

Getting an education was a bit like a communicable sexual disease.

Guilt was the grease in which the wheels of the authority turned.

Gravity is a habit that is hard to shake off.

Inside every sane person there’s a madman struggling to get out.

If you put butter and salt on it, it tastes like salty butter.

I imagine that fish have no word for water.

I like the idea of democracy. You have to have someone everyone distrusts.

His movements could be called cat-like, except that he did not stop to spray urine up against things.

I commend my soul to any god that can find it.

Most gods find it hard to walk and think at the same time.

I prefer to achieve immortality by not dying.

Not a man to mince words. People, yes. But not words.

She was already learning that if you ignore the rules people will, half the time, quietly rewrite them so that they don't apply to you.

Only in our dreams are we free. The rest of the time we need wages.

Real stupidity beats artificial intelligence every time.

Pets are always a great help in times of stress. And in times of starvation too, o'course.

The pen is mightier than the sword ... if the sword is very short, and the pen is very sharp.

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).

The pamphlet was very patriotic. That is, it talked about killing foreigners.

You can't find a hermit to teach you herming, because of course that rather spoils the whole thing.

There are no inconsistencies in the Discworld books; ocassionally, however, there are alternate pasts.

"There's a door," he whispered. "Where does it go?" "It stays where it is, I think," said Rincewind.

The trouble with being a god is that you've got no one to pray to.

What're quantum mechanics?" "I don't know. People who repair quantums, I suppose.

Words are the litmus paper of the mind.

A banker? Me?" "Yes, Mr. Lipwig." "But I don't know anything about running a bank!" "Good. No preconceived ideas." "I've robbed banks!" "Capital! Just reverse your thinking," said Lord Vetinari, beaming. "The money should be on the inside.

A dollar for a human bought a loaf of bread that was eaten in a few bites. The same dollar for Wee Mad Arthur bought the same-sized loaf, but it was food for a week and could then be further hollowed out and used as a bedroom.

A dwarf who can't get the hang of metal? That must be pretty unique." "Pretty rare, sir. But I was quite good at alchemy.." "Guild member?" "Not any more, sir." "Oh? How did you leave the guild?" "Through the roof, sir. But I'm pretty certain I know what I did wrong.

Ah, I know that," said Tiffany, as the boat rocked on the swell. "Whales aren't dangerous, because they just eat very small things..." "Row like the blazes, lads!" Rob Anybody yelled.

A camel in distress isn’t a shy creature. It doesn’t hang around in bars, nursing a solitary drink. It doesn’t phone up old friends and sob at them. It doesn’t mope, or write long soulful poems about Life and how dreadful it is when seen from a bedsitter. It doesn’t know what angst is.

An education was a bit like a communicable sexual disease. It made you unsuitable for a lot of jobs and then you had the urge to pass it on.

All he had was nothing, but that was something, and now it had been taken away.

And, er, these stories about you..." "Oh, all true. Most of them. A bit of exaggeration, but mostly true." "The one about the Citadel in Muntab and the Pash and the fish bone?" "Oh, yes." "But how did you get in where half a dozen armed and trained men couldn't even - ?" "I am a little man and I carry a broom," said Lu-Tze simply. "Everyone has some mess that needs clearing up. What harm is a man with a broom?" "What? And that was it?" "Well, the rest was a matter of cookery, really. The Pash was not a good man, but he was a glutton for his fish pie." "No martial arts?" said Lobsang. "Oh, always a last resort. History needs shepherds, not butchers." "Do you know okidoki?" "Just a lot of bunny-hops." "Shittake?" "If I wanted to thrust my hand into hot sand I would go to the seaside." "Upsidazi?" "A waste of good bricks." "No kando?" "You made that one up.

Anger helped Vimes up the last leg of the climb. Anger at himself and whoever it was who had punctured his holiday. But it was worrying: he had wanted something to happen and now it had. Somebody was dead. Sometimes you had to take a look at yourself and then look away.

And at the end of all stories Azrael, who knew the secret, thought: I REMEMBER WHEN ALL THIS WILL BE AGAIN.

And then there was the much spoken of lock-up. It looked like a giant pepperpot built of stone. A flowering creeper grew up it, and, next to the door and restrained by a chain, there was an enormous pig. When it saw their approach it got on its hind legs, and, tottering somewhat, begged. "This is Masher," said Feeney. "His father was a wild boar, his mother was surprised.

Are you staying with us? It could be dangerous,' said William, realizing that he was saying this to a vampire iconographer who undied every time he took a picture.

...but William felt in his bones that you couldn't run a city on the basis of what the Watch liked. The Watch would probably like it if everyone spent their time indoors, with their hands on the table where people could see them.

But the banging of the door as punctuation caused Tiffany to think and she thought suddenly, I want to do it my way. Not how the other witches think it should be done. I can't be Granny Weatherwax for them. I can only be me, Tiffany Aching.

But too much reading had taken its toll. William found that he now thought of prayer as a sophisticated way of pleading with thunderstorms.

Captain Vimes believed in logic, in much the same way as a man in a desert believed in ice -- i.e., it was something he really needed, but this just wasn't the world for it.

Colon looked awkward, as if the bunched underwear of the past was tangling itself in the crotch of recollection.

Don't you squire me. There's something going on down here, something wrong; I can feel it in my boots and, believe me, they're the most sensitive boots that ever were. The man who runs the village pub knows everything - I know that and so do you. If you're not on my side you're in my way and you know something, I can see it in your eyes. If it turns out you knew something of importance about the blacksmith you'll have invited yourself to be an accessory after the fact, with a free option, if I can get the bit between my teeth, of before the fact, which leaves you right in the middle, and that's a fact.

Death paused. YOU HAVE PERHAPS HEARD THE PHRASE, he said, THAT HELL IS OTHER PEOPLE? ‘Yes. Yes, of course.’ Death nodded. IN TIME, he said, YOU WILL LEARN THAT IT IS WRONG.

Esme Weatherwax hadn't done nice. She'd done what was needed.

Er, why do you need to work in a dark room, though?" he said. "The imps don't need it, do they?" "Ah, zis is for my experiment," said Otto proudly. "You know zat another term for an iconographer would be 'photographer'? From the old word photos in Latation, vhich means - " "'To prance around like a pillock ordering everyone about as if you owned the place'", said William. "Ah, you know it!

Esk, of course, had not been trained, and it is well known that a vital ingredient of success is not knowing that what you're attempting can't be done.

For a witch stands on the very edge of everything, between the light and the dark, between life and death, making choices, making decisions so that others may pretend no decisions have even been needed. Sometimes they need to help some poor soul through the final hours, help them to find the door, not to get lost in the dark.

Firstly,” said Ponder, “Mr Pessimal wants to know what we do here.” “Do? We are the premier college of magic!” said Ridcully. “But do we teach?” “Only if no alternative presents itself,” said the Dean. “We show ‘em where the library is, give ‘em a few little chats, and graduate the survivors. If they run into any problems, my door is always metaphorically open.” “Metaphorically, sir?” said Ponder. “Yes. But technically, of course, it’s locked.” “Explain to him that we don’t do things, Stibbons,” said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. “We are academics.