tribute: Maskerade

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2015-07-25 20:32:12 -07:00
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@@ -1215,7 +1215,7 @@ followed by long periods of being dead."
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%title Maskerade (4)
%title Maskerade (9)
# pp. 81-82, continued on pp. 87-89 (Harper Torch edition; apparently
# transcribed from some other edition based on quote marks used;
# a great number of very short paragraphs--it stretches a long way
@@ -1386,6 +1386,89 @@ with the city Watch whatsoever.'
[Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage
# p. 27 (Harper Torch edition)
%passage 5
Lancre had always bred strong, capable women. A Lancre farmer needed a
wife who'd think nothing of beating a wolf to death with her apron when
she went out to get some firewood. And, while kissing initially seemed to
have more charms than cookery, a stolid Lancre lad looking for a bride
would bear in mind his father's advice that kisses eventually lost their
fire but cookery tended to get even better over the years, and direct his
courting to those families that clearly showed a tradition of enjoying
their food.
[Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage
# p. 28
%passage 6
Music and magic had a lot in common. They were only two letters apart,
for one thing. And you couldn't to both.
[Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage
# p. 31
%passage 7
She'd caught herself saying "poot!" and "dang!" when she wanted to swear,
and using pink writing paper.
She'd got a reputation for being calm and capable in a crisis.
Next thing she knew she'd be making shortbread and apple pies as good as
her mother's, and then there'd be no hope for her.
So she'd introduced Perdita. She'd heard somewhere that inside every fat
woman was a thin woman trying to get out,(1) so she'd named her Perdita.
She was a good repository for all those thoughts that Agnes couldn't think
on account of her wonderful personality. Perdita would use black writing
paper if she could get away with it, and would be beautifully pale instead
of embarassingly flushed. Perdita wanted to be an interestingly lost soul
in plum-colored lipstick. Just occasionally, though, Agnes thought
Perdita was as dumb as she was.
(1) Or, at least, dying for chocolate.
[Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage
# p. 197 (dress shop proprietor has just sold an expensive dress to Granny)
%passage 8
She looked down at the money in her hand.
She knew about old money, which was somehow hallowed by the fact that
people had hung on to it for years, and she knew about new money, which
seemed to be being made by all these upstarts that were flooding into the
city these days. But under her powdered bosom she was an Ankh-Morpork
shopkeeper, and knew that the best kind of money was the sort that was in
her hand rather than someone else's. The best kind of money was mine,
not yours.
Besides, she was also enough of a snob to confuse rudeness with good
breeding. In the same way that the really rich can never be mad (they're
eccentric), so they can also never be rude (they're outspoken and
forthright).
[Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage
# pp. 288-289
%passage 9
Detritus reached down and picked up an eye patch.
"What d'you think, then?" said Nobby scornfully. "You think he turned into
a bat and flew away?"
"Ha! I do not t'ink that 'cos it is in ... consist .. ent with modern
policing," said Detritus.
"Well, /I/ think," said Nobby, "that when you have ruled out the impossible,
what is left, however improbable, ain't worth hanging around on a cold night
wonderin' about when you could be getting on the outside of a big drink.
Come on. I want to try a leg of the elephant that bit me."
"Was dat irony?"
"That was metaphor."
[Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage
%e title
#
#