tribute: The Light Fantastic

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@@ -329,43 +329,246 @@ the most courted and the most cursed.
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%title The Light Fantastic (2)
%title The Light Fantastic (12)
# p. 92 (Signet edition)
%passage 1
'Cohen is my name, boy' Belthan's hands stopped moving.
'Cohen?' she said, 'Cohen the Barbarian?'
'Cohen ish my name, boy.' Bethan's hands stopped moving.
'Cohen?' she said. 'Cohen the Barbarian?'
'The very shame.'
'Hang on, hang on,' said Rincewind, 'Cohen's a great big chap, neck like a
'Hang on, hang on,' said Rincewind. 'Cohen's a great big chap, neck like a
bull, got chest muscles like a sack of footballs. I mean, he's the Disc's
greatest warrior, a legend in his own lifetime. I remember my grandad
telling me he saw him ... my grandad telling me he ... my grandad ...'
telling me he saw him... my grandad telling me he... my grandad...'
He faltered under the gimlit gaze.
'Oh,' he said, 'Oh. Of course, Sorry.'
'Yesh,' said Cohen, and sighed, 'Thatsh right boy, I'm a lifetime in my own
legend.'
'Oh,' he said. 'Oh. Of course. Sorry.'
'Yesh,' said Cohen, and sighed. 'That's right boy. I'm a lifetime in my
own legend.'
[The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage 1
# p. 113 (Twoflower is teaching the Riders how to play bridge;
# in /The Light Fantastic/, Death's dialog uses quotation marks
# and full uppercase rather than the small capital letters used in
# the other books)
%passage 2
Death sat at one side of a black baize table in the entre of the room,
Death sat at one side of a black baize table in the centre of the room,
arguing with Famine, War and Pestilence. Twoflower was the only one to
look up and notice Rincewind.
'Hey, how did you get here?' he said.
'Well, some say that the creator took a handful - oh, I see, well, it's
hard to explain but I -'
'Well, some say that the creator took a handful--oh, I see, well, it's
hard to explain but I--'
'Have you got the Luggage?'
The wooden box pushed past Rincewind and settled down in front of its
owner, who opened its lid and rummaged around inside until he came up with
a small, leatherbound book which he handed to War, who was hammering the
table with a mailed fist.
'It's "Nosehinger on the Laws of Contract",' he said. 'It's quite good,
there's a lot in it about double finessing and how to -'
Death snatched the book with a bony hand and flipped through the pages,
'It's "Nosehinger on the Laws of Contract",' he said. 'It's quite good,
there's a lot in it about double finessing and how to--'
Death snatched the book with a bony hand and flipped through the pages,
quite oblivious to the presence of the two men.
'RIGHT,' he said, 'PESTILENCE, OPEN ANOTHER PACK OF CARDS. I'M GOING TO GET
TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS IF IT KILLS ME. FIGURATIVELY SPEAKING OF COURSE.'
'RIGHT,' he said, 'PESTILENCE, OPEN ANOTHER PACK OF CARDS. I'M GOING TO
GET TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS IF IT KILLS ME. FIGURATIVELY SPEAKING OF COURSE.'
[The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage 2
# p. 7 (passage starts mid-paragraph; the too-long-to-answer question is
# "Why have Rincewind and Twoflower fallen off the Disc's rim?",
# alluding to the conclusion of /The Colour of Magic/;
# in /Sourcery/ and /Interesting Times/ and probably others, the
# famous philosohper's name is spelled "Ly Tin Wheedle")
%passage 3
[...] such questions take time and could be more trouble than they are
worth. For example, it is said that someone at a party once asked the
famous philosopher Ly Tin Weedle "Why are you here?" and the reply took
three years.
[The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage
# p. 8 ('libraries': plural is accurate)
%passage 4
The only furnishing in the room was a lectern of dark wood, carved into the
shape of a bird--well, to be frank, into the shape of a winged thing it is
probably best not to examine too closely--and on the lectern, fastened to
it by a heavy chain covered in padlocks, was a book.
A large, but not particularly impressive, book. Other books in the
University's libraries had covers inlaid with rare jewels and fascinating
wood, or bound with dragon skin. This one was just a rather tatty leather.
It looked the sort of book described in library catalogues as "slightly
foxed," although it would be more honest to admit that it looked as though
it had been badgered, wolved and possibly beared as well.
[The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage
# pp. 41-42
%passage 5
The barbarian chieftain said: "What then are the greatest things that a
man may find in life?" This is the sort of thing you're supposed to say to
maintain steppecred in barbarian circles.
The man on his right thoughtfully drank his cocktail of mare's milk and
snowcat blood, and spoke thus: "The crisp horizon of the steppe, the wind
in your hair, a fresh horse under you."
The man on his left said: "The cry of the white eagle in the heights, the
fall of snow in the forest, a true arrow in your bow."
The chieftain nodded and said: "Surely it is the sight of your enemy
slain, the humiliation of his tribe and the lamentation of his women."
There was a general murmur of whiskery approval at this outrageous display.
Then the chieftain turned respectfully to his guest, a small figure
carefully warming his chilblains by the fire, and said: "But our guest,
whose name is legend, must tell us truly: what is it that a man may call
the greatest things in life?"
The guest paused in the middle of another unsuccessful attempt to light up.
"What shay?" he said, toothlessly.
"I said: what is it that a man may call the greatest things in life?"
The warriors leaned closer. This should be worth hearing.
The guest thought long and hard and then said, with deliberation: "Hot
water, good dentishtry and shoft lavatory paper."
[The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage
# p. 48 (Hanzel and Gretel, obviously...)
%passage 6
"Have a bit more table," said Rincewind.
"No thanks, I don't like marzipan," said Twoflower. "Anyway, I'm sure it's
not right to eat other people's furniture."
"Don't worry," said Swires. "The old witch hasn't been seen for years.
They say she was done up good and proper by a couple of young tearaways."
"Kids of today," said Rincewind.
"I blame the parents," said Twoflower.
[The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage
# p. 103
%passage 7
It is a well known fact that warriors and wizards do not get along, because
one side considers the other side to be a collection of bloodthirsty idiots
who can't walk and think at the same time, while the other side is naturally
suspicious of a body of men who mumble a lot and wear long dresses. Oh, say
the wizards, if we're going to be like that, then, what about all those
studded collars and oiled muscles down at the Young Men's Pagan Association?
To which the heroes reply, that's a pretty good allegation coming from a
bunch of wimpsoes who won't go near a woman on account, can you believe it,
of their mystical power being sort of drained out. Right, say the wizards,
that just about does it, you and your leather posing pouches. Oh yeah, say
the heroes, why don't you...
And so on. This sort of thing has been going on for centuries, and caused
a number of major battles which have left large tracts of land uninhabitable
because of magical harmonics.
[The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage
# p. 128
%passage 8
"He'sh mad?"
"Sort of mad. But mad with lots of money."
"Ah, then he can't be mad. I've been around; if a man hash lotsh of money
he'sh just ecshentric."
[The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage
# p. 182 (Cohen is now wearing dentures with teeth made from diamonds)
%passage 9
Cohen tapped him on the shoulder. The man looked around irritably.
"What do you want, grandad?" he snarled.
Cohen paused until he had the man's full attention, and then he smiled. It
was a slow, lazy smile, unveiling about 300 carats of mouth jewelry that
seemed to light up the room.
"I will count to three," he said, in a friendly tone of voice. "One, Two."
His bony knee came up in the man's groin with a satisfyingly meaty noise,
and he half-turned to bring the full force of an elbow into the kidneys as
the leader collapsed around his private universe of pain.
"Three," to told the ball of agony on the floor. Cohen had heard of
fighting fair, and had long ago decided he wanted no part of it.
[The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage
# pp. 193-194 (this passage is the data.base quote for shopkeeper)
%passage 10
There have been three general theories put forward to explain the
phenomenon of the wandering shops, or as they are generically known,
/tabernae vagantes/.
The first postulates that many thousands of years ago there evolved
somewhere in the multiverse a race whose single talent was to buy cheap
and sell dear. Soon they controlled a vast galactic empire or, as they put
it, Emporium, and the more advanced members of the species found a way to
equip their very shops with unique propulsion units that could break the
dark walls of space itself and open up vast new markets. And long after
the worlds of the Emporium perished in the heat death of their particular
universe, after one last defiant fire sale, the wandering starshops still
ply their trade, eating their way through the pages of space-time like a
worm through a three-volume novel.
The second is that they are the creation of a sympathetic Fate, charged
with the role of supplying exactly the right thing at the right time.
The third is that they are simply a very clever way of getting around the
various Sunday Closing acts.
All these theories, diverse as they are, have two things in common. They
explain the observed facts, and they are completely and utterly wrong.
[The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage
# p. 205
%passage 11
"Where to they all come from?" said Twoflower, as they fled yet another mob.
"Inside every sane person there's a madman struggling to get out," said the
shopkeeper, "That's what I've always thought. No one goes mad quicker than
a totally sane person."
[The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage
# pp. 229-230 ('grey': British spelling is accurate)
%passage 12
Trymon was looking at him. /Something/ was looking at him. And still the
others hadn't noticed. Could he even explain it? Trymon looked the same
as he had always done, except for the eyes, and a slight sheen to his skin.
Rincewind stared, and knew that there were far worse things than Evil. All
the demons in Hell would torture your very soul, but that was precisely
because they value souls very highly; evil would always try to steal the
universe, but at least it considered the universe worth stealing. But the
grey world behind those empty eyes would trample and destroy without even
according its victims the dignity of hatred. It wouldn't even notice them.
[The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage
%e title
#
#
@@ -6046,6 +6249,10 @@ SHALL WE GO?
# p. 251
%passage 13
I HAVE COME FOR THEE.
# The Light Fantastic, p. 52 (Signet edition; quote has quotation marks but
# including them here wouldn't fit with the rest)
%passage 14
DARK IN HERE, ISN'T IT?
%e title
%e section
#