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