1357 lines
45 KiB
Plaintext
1357 lines
45 KiB
Plaintext
# NetHack 3.6.0 tribute to:
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#
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# Sir Terence David John "Terry" Pratchett
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# April 28, 1948 - March 12, 2015
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# ("or until the ripples he caused in the world die away...")
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#
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#
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%section books
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#
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#
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#
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%title The Colour of Magic (2)
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%passage 1
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It has been remarked before that those who are sensitive to radiation in
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the far octarine - the eighth colour, the pigment of the Imagination - can
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see things that others cannot.
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Thus it was that Rincewind, hurrying through the crowded, flare-lit,
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evening bazarrs of Morpork with the Luggage trundling behind him, jostled a
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tall figure, turned to deliver a few suitable curses, and beheld Death.
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It had to be Death. No-one else went around with empty eye sockets and, of
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course, the scythe over one shoulder was another clue.
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[The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage 1
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%passage 2
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As he was drawn towards the Eye the terror-struck Rincewind raised the box
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protectively, and at the same time heard the picture imp say, 'They're
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about ripe now, can't hold them any longer. Every-one smile, please.'
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There was a -
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- flash of light so white and so bright -
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- it didn't seem like light at all.
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Bel-Shamharoth screamed, a sound that started in the far ultrasonic and
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finished somewhere in Rincewind's bowels. The tentacles went momentarily
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as stiff as rods, hurling their various cargos around the room, before
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bunching up protectively in front of the abused Eye. The whole mass
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dropped into the pit and a moment later the big slab was snatched up by
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several dozen tentacles and slammed into place, leaving a number of
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thrashing limbs trapped around the edge.
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[The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage 2
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%e title
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#
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#
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#
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%title The Light Fantastic (2)
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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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'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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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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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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[The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage 1
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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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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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'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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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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[The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage 2
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%e title
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#
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#
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#
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%title Equal Rites (3)
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%passage 1
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...it is well known that a vital ingredient of success is not knowing that
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what you're attempting can't be done.
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[Equal Rites, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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%passage 2
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Million-to-one chances...crop up nine times out of ten.
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[Equal Rites, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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%passage 3
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Animal minds are simple, and therefore sharp. Animals never spend time
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dividing experience into little bits and speculating about all the bits
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they've missed. The whole panoply of the universe has been neatly
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expressed to them as things to (a) mate with, (b) eat, (c) run away from,
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and (d) rocks. This frees the mind from unnecessary thoughts and gives
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it a cutting edge where it matters. Your normal animal, in fact, never
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tries to walk and chew gum at the same time.
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The average human, on the other hand, thinks about all sorts of things
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around the clock, on all sorts of levels, with interruptions from dozens
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of biological calendars and timepieces. There's thoughts about to be said,
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and private thoughts, and real thoughts, and thoughts about thoughts, and
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a whole gamut of subconscious thoughts. To a telepath the human head is
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a din. It is a railway terminus with all the Tannoys talking at once.
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It is a complete FM waveband- and some of those stations aren't reputable,
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they're outlawed pirates on forbidden seas who play late-night records with
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limbic lyrics.
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[Equal Rites, 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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#
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%title Mort (1)
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%passage 1
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Ankh-Morpork had dallied with many forms of government and hand ended up
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with that form of democracy known as One Man, One Vote. The Patrician was
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the Man; he had the Vote.
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[Mort, 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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#
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%title Sourcery (2)
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%passage 1
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And what would humans be without love?
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RARE, said Death.
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[Sourcery, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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%passage 2
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They suffered from the terrible delusion that something could be done.
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They seemed prepared to make the world the way they wanted it or die in the
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attempt, and the trouble with dying in the attempt was that you died in
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the attempt.
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[Sourcery, 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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#
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%title Wyrd Sisters (2)
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%passage 1
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Destiny is important, see, but people go wrong when they think it controls
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them. It's the other way around.
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[Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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%passage 2
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#submitted by Boudewijn
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Verence tried to avoid walking through walls. A man had his dignity.
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He became aware that he was being watched.
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He turned his head.
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There was a cat sitting in the doorway, subjecting him to a slow blink.
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It was a mottled grey and extremely fat...
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No. It was extremely /big/. It was covered with so much scar tissue
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that it looked like a fist with fur on it. Its ears were a couple of
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perforated stubs, its eyes two yellow slits of easy-going malevolence,
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its tail a twitching series of question marks as it stared at him.
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Greebo had heard that Lady Felmet had a small white female cat and had
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strolled up to pay his respects. Verence had never seen an animal with
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so much built-in villainy. He didn't resist as it waddled across the
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floor and dried to rub itself against his legs, purring like a
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waterfall.
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'Well, well,' said the king, vaguely. He reached down and made an
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effort to scratch it behind the two ragged bits on top of its head.
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It was a relief to find someone else besides another ghost who could
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see him, and Greebo, he couldn't help feeling, was a distinctly unusual
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cat. Most of the castle cats were either pampered pets or flat-eared
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kitchen and stable habitues who generally resembled the very rodents
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they lived on. This cat, on the other hand, was its own animal. All
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cats give that impression, of course, but instead of the mindless
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animal self-absorption that passes for secret wisdom in the creatures,
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Greebo radiated genuime intelligence. He also radiated a smell that
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would have knocked over a wall and caused sinus trouble in a dead fox.
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[Wyrd Sisters, 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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#
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%title Pyramids (2)
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%passage 1
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The trouble with life was that you didn't get a chance to practice before
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doing it for real.
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[Pyramids, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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%passage 2
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Mere animals couldn't possibly manage to act like this. You need to be a
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human being to be really stupid.
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[Pyramids, 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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#
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%title Guards! Guards! (2)
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%passage 1
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Never build a dungeon you wouldn't be happy to spend the night in yourself.
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The world would be a happier place if more people remembered that.
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[Guards! Guards!, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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%passage 2
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These weren't encouraged in the city, since the heft and throw of a
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longbow's arrow could send it through an innocent bystander a hundred
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yards away instead of the innocent bystander at whom it was aimed.
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[Guards! Guards!, 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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#
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%title Eric (2)
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%passage 1
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No enemies had ever taken Ankh-Morpork. Well, /technically/ they had, quite
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often; the city welcomed free-spending barbarian invaders, but somehow the
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puzzled raiders always found, after a few days, that they didn't own their
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own horses any more, and within a couple of months they were just another
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minority group with its own graffiti and food shops.
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[Eric, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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%passage 2
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Rincewind looked down at the broad steps they were climbing. They were
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something of a novelty; each one was built out of large stone letters. The
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one he was just stepping on to, for example, read: I Meant It For The Best.
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The next one was: I Thought You'd Like It.
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Eric was standing on: For The Sake Of The Children.
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'Weird, isn't it?' he said. 'Why do it like this?'
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'I think they're meant to be good intentions,' said Rincewind. This was a
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road to hell, and demons were, after all, traditionalists.
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[Eric, 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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#
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%title Moving Pictures (4)
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%passage 1
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This is space. It's sometimes called the final frontier.
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(Except that of course you can't have a /final/ frontier, because there'd
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be nothing for it to be a frontier /to/, but as frontiers go, it's pretty
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penultimate...)
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[Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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%passage 2
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By and large, the only skill the alchemists of Ankh-Morpork had discovered
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so far was the ability to turn gold into less gold.
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[Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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%passage 3
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There was a dog sitting by his feet.
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It was small, bow-legged and wiry, and basically grey but with patches of
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brown, white, and black in outlying areas... It looked up slowly, and
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said 'Woof?' Victor poked an exploratory finger in his ear. It must have
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been a trick of an echo, or something. It wasn't that the dog had gone
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'woof!', although that was practically unique in itself; most dogs in the
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universe /never/ went 'woof!', they had complicated barks like 'whuuugh!'
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and 'hwhoouf!'. No, it was that it hadn't in fact /barked/ at all. It had
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/said/ 'woof'. 'Could have bin worse, mister. I could have said "miaow".'
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[Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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%passage 4
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''Twas beauty killed the beast,' said the Dean, who liked to say things
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like that. 'No it wasn't,' said the Chair. 'It was it splatting into the
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ground like that.'
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[Moving Pictures, 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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#
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%title Reaper Man (4)
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%passage 1
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No one is actually dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away..
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.
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[Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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%passage 2
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Five exclamation marks, the sure sign of an insane mind.
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[Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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%passage 3
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Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how
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fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and
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is waiting for it.
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[Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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%passage 4
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"That's not fair, you know. If we knew when we were going to die, people
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would lead better lives."
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IF PEOPLE KNEW WHEN THEY WERE GOING TO DIE, I THINK THEY PROBABLY WOULDN'T
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LIVE AT ALL.
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[Reaper Man, 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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#
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%title Witches Abroad (1)
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%passage 1
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Vampires have risen from the dead, the grave and the crypt, but have never
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managed it from the cat.
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[Witches Abroad, 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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#
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%title Small Gods (2)
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%passage 1
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He says gods like to see an atheist around. Gives them something to aim at.
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[Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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%passage 2
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Pets are always a great help in times of stress. And in times of starvation
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too, o'course.
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[Small Gods, 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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#
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%title Lords and Ladies (12)
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# p. 122 (Harper Torch edition)
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%passage 1
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Elves are wonderful. They provoke wonder.
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Elves are marvellous. They cause marvels.
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Elves are fantastic. They create fantasies.
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Elves are glamorous. They project glamour.
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Elves are enchanting. They weave enchantment.
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Elves are terrific. They beget terror.
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The thing about words is that meanings can twist just like a snake,
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and if you want to find snakes look for them behind words that have
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changed their meaning.
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No one ever said elves are nice.
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Elves are bad.
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[Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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# p. 32
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%passage 2
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"Hope she does all right as queen," said Nanny.
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"We taught her everything she knows," said Granny Weatherwax.
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"Yeah," said Nanny Ogg, as they disappeared into the bracken. "D'you
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think... maybe... ?"
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"What?"
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"D'you think maybe we ought to have taught her everything /we/ know?"
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[Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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# p. 36
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%passage 3
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It was very hard, being a reader in Invisible Writings.(1)
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(1) The study of invisible writings was a new discipline made available by
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the discovery of the bi-directional nature of Library-Space. The thaumic
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mathematics are complex, but boil down to the fact that all books,
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everywhere, affect all other books. This is obvious: books inspire
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other books written in the future, and cite books written in the past.
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But the General Theory(2) of L-Space suggests that, in that case, the
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contents of books /as yet unwritten/ can be deduced from books now in
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existence.
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(2) There's a Special Theory as well, but no one bothers with it much
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because it's self-evidently a load of marsh gas.
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[Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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# p. 51
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%passage 4
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"Don't hold with schools," said Granny Weatherwax. "They get in the way
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of education. All them books. Books? What good are they? There's too
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much reading these days. We never had time to read when we was young, I
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know that."
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[Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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# pp. 79-80
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%passage 5
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The highwayman stepped over the groaning body of the driver and marched
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toward the door of the coach, dragging his stepladder behind him.
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He opened the door.
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"Your money or, I'm sorry to say, your--"
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A blast of octarine fire blew his hat off.
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The dwarf's expression did not change.
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"I wonder if I might be allowed to rephrase my demands?"
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Ridcully looked the elegantly dressed stranger up and down, or rather
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down and further down.
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"You don't look like a dwarf," he said, "apart from the height, that is."
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"Don't look like a dwarf apart from the height?"
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I mean, the helmet and iron boots department is among those you are lacking
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in," said Ridcully.
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[Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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# p. 95
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%passage 6
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What is magic?
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There is the wizards' explanation, which comes in two forms, depending on
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the age of the wizard. Older wizards talk about candles, circles, planets,
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stars, bananas, chants, runes, and the importance of having at least four
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good meals every day. Younger wizards, particularly the pale ones who
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spend most of their time in the High Energy Magic building,(1) chatter at
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length about fluxes in the morphic nature of the universe, the essentially
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impermanent quality of even the most apparently rigid time-space framework,
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the impossibility of reality, and so on: what this means is that they have
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got hold of something hot and are gabbling the physics as they go along.
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(1) It was here that the thaum, hitherto believed to be the smallest
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possible particle of magic, was successfully demonstrated to made up of
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/resons/(2) or reality fragments. Currently research indicates that each
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reson is itself made up of a combination of at least five "flavors,"
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known as "up," "down," "sideways," "sex appeal," and "peppermint."
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(2) Lit: "Thing-ies."
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[Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
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# p. 107
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%passage 7
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What is magic?
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Then there is the witches' explanation, which comes in two forms, depending
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on the age of the witch. Older witches hardly put words to it at all, but
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may suspect in their hearts that the universe really doesn't know what the
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hell is going on and consists of a zillion trillion billion possibilities,
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and could become any of them if a trained mind rigid with quantum certainty
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was inserted in the crack and /twisted/; that, if you really had to make
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someone's hat explode, all you needed to do was /twist/ into the universe
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where a large number of hat molecules all decide at the same time to bounce
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off in different directions.
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Younger witches, on the other hand, talk about it all the time and believe
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it involves crystals, mystic forces, and dancing about without yer drawers
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on.
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Everyone may to right, all at the same time. That's the thing about
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quantum.
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[Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
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%e passage
|
|
# p. 114; 'colorful' & 'humor' are spelled the American way, 'or' not 'our'
|
|
%passage 8
|
|
He knocked on the coach door. The window slid down.
|
|
|
|
"I wouldn't like you to think of this as a robbery," he said. "I'd like
|
|
you to think of it more as a colorful anecdote you might enjoy telling your
|
|
grandchildren about."
|
|
|
|
A voice from within said, "That's him! He stole my horse!"
|
|
|
|
A wizard's staff poked out. The chieftain saw the knob on the end.
|
|
|
|
"Now then," he said pleasantly. "I know the rules. Wizards aren't allowed
|
|
to use magic against civilians except in genuine life-threatening situa--"
|
|
|
|
There was a burst of octarine light.
|
|
|
|
"Actually, it's not a rule," said Ridcully. "It's more a guideline." He
|
|
turned to Ponder Stibbons. "Interestin' use of Stacklady's Morphic
|
|
Resonator here, I hoped you noticed."
|
|
|
|
Ponder lookd down.
|
|
|
|
The chieftain had been turned into a pumpkin, although, in accordance with
|
|
the rules of universal humor, he still had his hat on.
|
|
|
|
[Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
# p. 149 (second half of a paragraph)
|
|
%passage 9
|
|
Things had to balance. You couldn't set out to be a good witch or a bad
|
|
witch. It never worked for long. All you could try to be was a /witch/,
|
|
as hard as you could.
|
|
|
|
[Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
# p. 162 (mid-paragraph)
|
|
%passage 10
|
|
"I'm the head wizard now. I've only got to give an order and a thousand
|
|
wizards will... uh... disobey, come to think of it, or say 'What?', or
|
|
start to argue. But they have to take notice.
|
|
|
|
"I've been to that University a few times," said Granny. "A bunch of fat
|
|
old men in beards."
|
|
|
|
"That's right! That's /them/!"
|
|
|
|
[Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
# p. 190
|
|
%passage 11
|
|
The window was no escape this time. There was the bed to hide under, and
|
|
that'd work for all of two seconds, wouldn't it?
|
|
|
|
Her eye was drawn by some kind of horrible magic back to the room's
|
|
garderobe, lurking behind its curtain.
|
|
|
|
Margrat lifted the lid. The shaft was definitely wide enough to admit a
|
|
body. Garderobes were notorious in that respect. Several unpopular kings
|
|
met their end, as it were, in the garderobe, at the hands of an assassin
|
|
with good climbing ability, a spear, and a fundamental approach to politics.
|
|
|
|
[Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
# p. 191 ('a' historian, not 'an'; 'Ynci' is correct)
|
|
%passage 12
|
|
Some shape, some trick of moonlight, some expression on a painted face
|
|
somehow cut through her terror and caught her eye.
|
|
|
|
That was a portrait she'd never seen before. She'd never walked down this
|
|
far. The idiot vapidity of the assembled queens had depressed her. But
|
|
this one...
|
|
|
|
Ths one, somehow, reached out to her.
|
|
|
|
She stopped.
|
|
|
|
It couldn't have been done from life. In the days of /this/ queen, the
|
|
only paint known locally was a sort of blue, and generally used on the body.
|
|
But a few generations ago King Lully I had been a bit of a historian and a
|
|
romantic. He'd researched what was known of the early days of Lancre, and
|
|
where actual evidence had been a bit sparse he had, in the best traditions
|
|
of the keen ethnic historian, inferred from revealed self-evident wisdom(1)
|
|
and extrapolated from associated sources(2). He'd commissioned the
|
|
portrait of Queen Ynci the Short-Tempered, one of the founders of the
|
|
kingdom.
|
|
|
|
(1) Made it up.
|
|
|
|
(2) Had read a lot of stuff that other people had made up, too.
|
|
|
|
[Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Men at Arms (1)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
The maze was so small that people got lost looking for it.
|
|
|
|
[Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Soul Music (2)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
But this didn't feel like magic. It felt a lot older than that. It felt
|
|
like music
|
|
|
|
[Soul Music, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%passage 2
|
|
"Yes," said the skull. "Quit while you're a head, that's what I say."
|
|
|
|
[Soul Music, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Interesting Times (2)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
Whatever happens, they say afterwards, it must have been fate.
|
|
People are always a little confused about this, as they are in
|
|
the case of miracles. When someone is saved from certain death
|
|
by a strange concatenation of circumstances, they say that's a
|
|
miracle. But of course if someone is killed by a freak chain of
|
|
events -- the oil spilled just there, the safety fence broken
|
|
just there -- that must also be a miracle. Just because it's
|
|
not nice doesn't mean it's not miraculous.
|
|
|
|
[Interesting Times, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%passage 2
|
|
"Oh, no," said the Lecturer in Recent Runes, pushing his chair back.
|
|
"Not that. That's meddling with things you don't understand."
|
|
"Well, we are wizards," said Ridcully. "We're supposed to meddle in
|
|
things we don't understand. If we hung around waitin' till we
|
|
understood things we'd never get anything done."
|
|
|
|
[Interesting Times, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Maskerade (4)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
'Maybe you could... help us?'
|
|
'What's wrong?'
|
|
'It's my boy...'
|
|
Granny opened the door further and saw the womand standing behind Mr. Slot.
|
|
One look at her face was enough. There was a bundle in her arms. Granny
|
|
stepped back. 'Bring him in and let me have a look at him.' She took the
|
|
baby from the woman, sat down on the room's one chair, and pulled back the
|
|
blanket. 'Hmm,' said Granny, after a while.
|
|
'There's a curse on this house, that's what it is,' said Slot. 'My best
|
|
cow's been taken mortally sick, too.' 'Oh? You have a cowshed?' siad
|
|
Granny. 'Very good place for a sick-room, a cowshed. It's the warmth. You
|
|
better show me were it is.' 'You want to take the boy down there?'
|
|
'Right now.'
|
|
[...]
|
|
'How many have you come for?'
|
|
ONE.
|
|
'The cow?'
|
|
Death shook his head.
|
|
'It could be the cow.'
|
|
NO. THAT WOULD BE CHANGING HISTORY.
|
|
'History is about things changing.'
|
|
NO.
|
|
Granny sat back.
|
|
'Then I challenge you to a game. That's traditional. That's /allowed/.'
|
|
Death was silent for a moment.
|
|
THIS IS TRUE.
|
|
'Good.'
|
|
HOWEVER... YOU UNDERSTAND THAT TO WIN ALL YOU MUST GAMBLE ALL?
|
|
'Double or quits? Yes, I know.'
|
|
BUT NOT CHESS.
|
|
'Can't abide chess.'
|
|
OR CRIPPLE MR ONION. I'VE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO UNDERSTAND THE RULES.
|
|
'Very well. How about one hand of poker? Five cards each, no draws? Sudden
|
|
death, as they say.' Death thought about this, too.
|
|
YOU KNOW THIS FAMILY?
|
|
'No.'
|
|
THEN WHY?
|
|
'Are we talking or are we playing?'
|
|
OH, VERY WELL.
|
|
Granny looked at her cards, and threw them down.
|
|
FOUR QUEENS. HMM. THAT /IS/ VERY HIGH.
|
|
Death looked down at his cards, and then up into Granny's steady, blue-eyed
|
|
gaze. Neither moved for some time.
|
|
Then Death laid the hand on the table.
|
|
I LOSE. ALL I HAVE IS FOUR ONES.
|
|
|
|
[Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%passage 2
|
|
Ahahahahaha!
|
|
Ahahahaha!
|
|
Aahahaha!
|
|
BEWARE!!!!!
|
|
Yrs sincerely,
|
|
The Opera Ghost
|
|
'What sort of person,' said Salzella, 'sits down and /writes/ a maniacal
|
|
laugh? And all those exclamation marks, you notice? Five? A sure sign of
|
|
someone who wears his underpants on his head. Opera can do that to a man.'
|
|
|
|
[Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%passage 3
|
|
Agnes had woken up one morning with the horrible realization that she'd
|
|
been saddled with a lovely personality. It was the lack of choice that
|
|
rankled. No one had asked her, before she was born, whether she wanted a
|
|
lovely personality or whether she'd prefer, say, a miserable personality
|
|
but a body that could take size 9 in dresses. Instead, people would take
|
|
pains to tell her that beauty was only skin-deep, as if a man ever fell
|
|
for an attractive pair of kidneys.
|
|
|
|
[Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%passage 4
|
|
'And what can I get you, officers?' she said.
|
|
'Officers? Us? What makes you think we're watchment?'
|
|
'He's got a helmet on,' Nanny pointed out.
|
|
'Milit'ry chic,' Nobby said. 'It's just a fashion accessory. Actually, we
|
|
are gentlemen of means and have nothing to do with the City Watch
|
|
whatsoever.' 'Well, /gentlemen/, would you like some wine?'
|
|
'Not while we on duty, t'anks', said the troll.
|
|
|
|
[Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Feet of Clay (2)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
Rumour is information distilled so finely that it can filter through
|
|
anything. It does not need doors and windows -- sometimes it does not need
|
|
people. It can exist free and wild, running from ear to ear without ever
|
|
touching lips.
|
|
|
|
[Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%passage 2
|
|
It was hard enough to kill a vampire. You could stake them down and turn
|
|
them into dust and ten years later someone drops a drop of blood in the
|
|
wrong place and guess who's back? They returned more times than raw
|
|
broccoli.
|
|
|
|
[Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Hogfather (1)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
#addition text contributed by Boudewijn
|
|
Everything starts somewhere, though many physicists disagree.
|
|
But people have always been dimly aware of the problem with the start of
|
|
things. They wonder how the snowplough driver gets to work, or how the
|
|
makers of dictionaries look up the spelling of words. Yet there is the
|
|
constant desire to find some point in the twisting, knotting, ravelling
|
|
nets of space-time on which a metaphorical finger can be put to indicate
|
|
that here, /here/, is the point where it all began . . .
|
|
|
|
/Something/ began when the Guild of Assassins enrolled Mister Teatime,
|
|
who saw things differently from other people, and one of the ways that
|
|
he saw things differently from other people was in seeing other people
|
|
as things (later, Lord Downey of the Guild said, 'We took pity on him
|
|
because he'd lost both parents at an early age. I think that, on
|
|
reflection, we should have wondered a bit more about that.')
|
|
|
|
[Hogfather, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Jingo (2)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
It was so much easier to blame it on Them. It was bleakly depressing to
|
|
think that They were Us. If it was Them, then nothing was anyone's fault.
|
|
If it was us, what did that make Me? After all, I'm one of Us. I must be.
|
|
I've certainly never thought of myself as one of Them. No one ever thinks
|
|
of themselves as one of Them. We're always one of Us. It's Them that do
|
|
the bad things.
|
|
|
|
[Jingo, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%passage 2
|
|
#contributed by Boudewijn
|
|
There was a general shifting of position and a group clearing of throats.
|
|
'What about mercenaries?' said Boggis.
|
|
'The problem with mercenaries', said the Patrician, 'is that they need
|
|
to be paid to start fighting. And, unless you are very lucky, you end
|
|
up paying them even more to stop--'
|
|
Selachii thumped the table.
|
|
'Very well, then, by jingo!' he snarled. 'Alone!'
|
|
'We could certainly do with one,' said Lord Vetinari. 'We need the
|
|
money. I was about to say that we cannot /afford/ mercenaries.'
|
|
'How can this be?' said Lord Downey. Don't we pay our taxes?'
|
|
'Ah, I thought we might come to that,' said Lord Vetinari. He raised
|
|
his hand and, on cue again, his clerk placed a piece of paper in it.
|
|
'Let me see now . . . ah yes. Guild of Assassins . . . Gross earnings
|
|
in the last year: AM$13,207,048. Taxes paid in the last year:
|
|
forty-seven dollars, twenty-two pence and what on examination turned
|
|
out to be a Hershebian half-/dong/, worth one eighth of a penny.'
|
|
'That's all perfectly legal! The Guild of Accountants--'
|
|
'Ah yes. Guild of Accountants: gross earnings AM$7,999,011.
|
|
Taxes paid: nil. But, ah yes, I see they applied for a rebate of
|
|
AM$200,000.'
|
|
'And what we received, I may say, included a Hershebian half-/dong/,'
|
|
said Mr Frostrip of the Guild of Accountants.
|
|
'What goes around comes around,' said Vetinari calmly.
|
|
He tossed the paper aside. 'Taxation, gentlemen, is very much like
|
|
dairy farming. The task is to extract the maximum amount of milk with
|
|
the minimum of moo. And I am afraid to say that these days all I get is
|
|
moo.'
|
|
'Are you telling us that Ankh-Morpork is /bankrupt/?' said Downey.
|
|
'Of course. While, at the same time, full of rich people. I trust they
|
|
have been spending their good fortume on swords.'
|
|
'And you have /allowed/ this wholesale tax avoidance?' said Lord
|
|
Selachii. 'Oh, the taxes haven't been avoided,' said Lord Vetinari.
|
|
'Or even evaded. They just haven't been paid.'
|
|
'That is a disgusting state of affairs!'
|
|
The Patrician raised his eyebrows. 'Commander Vines?'
|
|
'Yes, sir?'
|
|
'Would you be so good as to assemble a squad of your most experienced
|
|
men, liaise with the tax gatherers and obtain the accumulated back
|
|
taxes, please? My clerk here will give you a list of the prime
|
|
defaulters.'
|
|
'Right, sir. And if they resist, sir?' said Vimes, smiling nastily.
|
|
'Oh, how can they resist, commander? This is the will of our civic
|
|
leaders.' He took the paper his clerk proferred. 'Let me see, now.
|
|
Top of the list--' Lord Selachii coughed hurriedly. 'Far too late for
|
|
that sort of nonsense now,' he said.
|
|
'Water under the bridge,' said Lord Downey.
|
|
'Deat and buried,' said Mr Slant.
|
|
'I paid mine,' said Vimes.
|
|
|
|
[Jingo, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title The Last Continent (2)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
PEOPLE'S WHOLE LIVES DO PASS IN FRONT OF THEIR EYES BEFORE THEY DIE. THE
|
|
PROCESS IS CALLED 'LIVING'.
|
|
|
|
[The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%passage 2
|
|
"When You're Up to Your Ass in Alligators, Today Is the First Day of the
|
|
Rest of Your Life."
|
|
|
|
[The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Carpe Jugulum (1)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
Perdita thought that not obeying rules was somehow cool.
|
|
Agnes thought that rules like "Don't fall into this huge pit of spikes"
|
|
were there for a purpose.
|
|
|
|
[Carpe Jugulum, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title The Fifth Elephant (2)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
You did something because it had always been done,
|
|
and the explanation was "but we've always done it this way."
|
|
A million dead people can't have been wrong, can they?
|
|
|
|
[The Fifth Elephant, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%passage 2
|
|
He'd noticed that sex bore some resemblance to cookery: It facinated
|
|
people, they sometimes bought books full of complicated recipes and
|
|
interesting pictures, and sometimes when they were really hungry they
|
|
created vast banquets in their imagination - but at the end of the day
|
|
they'd settle quite happily for egg and chips, if it was well done and
|
|
maybe had a slice of tomato.
|
|
|
|
[The Fifth Elephant, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title The Truth (2)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
There are, it has been said, two types of people in the world. There are
|
|
those who, when presented with a glass that is exactly half full, say: this
|
|
glass is half full. And then there are those who say: this glass is half
|
|
empty.
|
|
|
|
The world belongs, however, to those who can look at the glass and say:
|
|
What's up with this glass? Excuse me? Excuse me? This is my glass? I
|
|
don't think so. My glass was full! And it was a bigger glass! Who's been
|
|
pinching my beer?
|
|
|
|
[The Truth, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage 1
|
|
%passage 2
|
|
The world is made up of four elements: Earth, Air, Fire and Water.
|
|
This is a fact well known even to Corporal Nobbs. It's also wrong.
|
|
There's a fifth element, and generally it's called Surprise.
|
|
|
|
[The Truth, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage 2
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Thief of Time (1)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
"No running with scythes!"
|
|
|
|
[Thief of Time, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
# The Last Hero has never been released in the U.S. (or anywhere?) as a
|
|
# conventional mass market paperback. The large (roughly 10" by 12")
|
|
# trade paperback contains many full page color illustrations and most
|
|
# text pages include decorations of varying degrees of elaborateness.
|
|
# The actual text is probably only novella length.
|
|
#
|
|
%title The Last Hero (7)
|
|
# p. 41 (end of 1st paragraph)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
Too many people, when listing all the perils to be found in the search
|
|
for lost treasure or ancient wisdom, had forgotten to put at the top of
|
|
the list 'the man who arrived just before you'.
|
|
|
|
[The Last Hero, written by Terry Pratchett, illustrated by Paul Kidby]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
# p. 5 (1st page of text, 4th & 5th paragraphs)
|
|
# second paragraph is a bit "on the nose" but is too good to leave out
|
|
%passage 2
|
|
The reason for the story was a mix of many things. There was humanity's
|
|
desire to do forebidden deeds merely because they were forbidden.
|
|
There was its desire to find new horizons and kill the people who live
|
|
beyond them. There were the mysterious scrolls. There was the cucumber.
|
|
But mostly there was the knowledge that one day, it would all be over.
|
|
|
|
'Ah, well, life goes on,' people say when someone dies. But from the
|
|
point of view of the person who has just died, it doesn't. It's the
|
|
universe that goes on. Just as the deceased was getting the hang of
|
|
everything it's all whisked away, by illness or accident or, in one
|
|
case, a cucumber. Why this has to be is one of the imponderables of
|
|
life, in the face of which people either start to pray...
|
|
or become really, really angry.
|
|
|
|
[The Last Hero, written by Terry Pratchett, illustrated by Paul Kidby]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
# p. 19 (bottom 20%)
|
|
%passage 3
|
|
'And they're /heroes/,' said Mr Betteridge of the Guild of Historians.
|
|
|
|
'And that means, exactly?' said the Patrician, sighing.
|
|
|
|
'They're good at doing what they want to do.'
|
|
|
|
'But they are also, as I understand it, very old men.'
|
|
|
|
'Very old /heroes/,' the historian corrected him. 'That just means
|
|
they've had a lot of /experience/ in doing what they want to do.
|
|
|
|
Lord Vetinari sighed again. He did not like to live in a world of
|
|
heroes. You had civilisation, such as it was, and you had heroes.
|
|
|
|
[The Last Hero, written by Terry Pratchett, illustrated by Paul Kidby]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
# p. 25 (2nd & 3rd fifths)
|
|
%passage 4
|
|
They were, all of them, old men. Their background conversation was
|
|
a litany of complaints about feet, stomachs and backs. They moved
|
|
slowly. But they had a /look/ about them. It was in their eyes.
|
|
|
|
Their eyes said that wherever it was, they had been there. Whatever
|
|
it was, they had done it, sometimes more than once. But they would
|
|
never, ever, /buy/ the T-shirt. And they /did/ know the meaning of
|
|
the word 'fear'. It was something that happened to other people.
|
|
|
|
[The Last Hero, written by Terry Pratchett, illustrated by Paul Kidby]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
# p. 97 (middle)
|
|
%passage 5
|
|
Captain Carrot saluted. 'Force is always the last resort, sir,' he said.
|
|
|
|
'I believe for Cohen it's the first choice,' said Lord Vetinari.
|
|
|
|
'He's not too bad if you don't come up behind him suddenly,' said Rincewind.
|
|
|
|
'Ah, there is the voice of our mission specialist,' said the Patrician.
|
|
'I just hope-- What is that on your badge, Captain Carrot?'
|
|
|
|
'Mission motto, sir,' said Carrot cheerfully. '/Morituri Nolumus Mori/.
|
|
Rincewind suggested it.'
|
|
|
|
'I imagine he did,' said Lord Vetinari, observing the wizard coldly.
|
|
'And would you care to give us a colloquial translation, Mr Rincewind?'
|
|
|
|
'Er...' Rincewind hesitated, but there really was no escape. 'Er...
|
|
roughly speaking, it means, "We who are about to die don't want to", sir.'
|
|
|
|
[The Last Hero, written by Terry Pratchett, illustrated by Paul Kidby]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
# p. 125 (near top, then continued half way down)
|
|
%passage 6
|
|
'A good wizard, Rincewind,' said the Chair of Indefinite Studies. 'Not
|
|
particularly bright, but, frankly, I've never been quite happy with
|
|
intelligence. An overrated talent, in my humble opinion.'
|
|
|
|
Ponder's ears went red.
|
|
|
|
[...]
|
|
|
|
'Mr Stibbons was right, was he?' said Ridcully, staring at Ponder. 'How
|
|
did you work that out so /exactly/, Mr Stibbons?'
|
|
|
|
'I, er...' Ponder felt the eyes of the wizards on him. 'I--' He stopped.
|
|
'It was a lucky guess, sir.'
|
|
|
|
The wizards relaxed. They were extremely uneasy with cleverness, but
|
|
lucky guessing was what being a wizard was all about.
|
|
|
|
[The Last Hero, written by Terry Pratchett, illustrated by Paul Kidby]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
# p. 146 (top)
|
|
%passage 7
|
|
Evil Harry looked down and shuffled his feet, his face a battle between
|
|
pride and relief.
|
|
|
|
'Good of you to say that, lads,' he mumbled. 'I mean, you know, if it
|
|
was up to me I wouldn't do this to yer, but I got a reputation to--'
|
|
|
|
'I said we /understand/,' said Cohen. 'It's just like with us. You see
|
|
a big hairy thing galloping towards you, you don't stop to think: Is
|
|
this a rare species on the point of extinction? No, you hack its head
|
|
off. 'Cos that's heroing, am I right? An' /you/ see someone, you
|
|
betray 'em, quick as a wink. 'Cos that's villaining.'
|
|
|
|
[The Last Hero, written by Terry Pratchett, illustrated by Paul Kidby]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents (1)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
The important thing about adventures, thought Mr Bunnsy, was that they
|
|
shouldn't be so long as to make you miss mealtimes.
|
|
|
|
[The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Night Watch (1)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
When Mister Safety Catch Is Not On, Mister Crossbow Is Not Your Friend.
|
|
|
|
[Night Watch, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title The Wee Free Men (1)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
"Nac Mac Feegle! The Wee Free Men! Nae king! Nae quin! Nae laird! We willna
|
|
be fooled again!"
|
|
|
|
[The Wee Free Men, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Monstrous Regiment (1)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
'How can you protect yourself by carrying a sword if
|
|
you don't know how to use it?'
|
|
|
|
'Not me, sir. Other people. They see the sword and
|
|
don't attack me,' said Maladict patiently.
|
|
|
|
'Yes, but if they did, lad, you wouldn't be any good with it,' said the
|
|
sergeant.
|
|
|
|
'No, sir. I'd probably settle for just ripping their heads off, sir.
|
|
That's what I mean by protection, sir. Theirs, not mine.
|
|
And I'd get hell from the League if I did that, sir'
|
|
|
|
[Monstrous Regiment, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title A Hat Full of Sky (1)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
|
|
Why do you go away?
|
|
|
|
So that you can come back. So that you can see the place
|
|
you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people
|
|
there see you differently, too.
|
|
|
|
Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.
|
|
|
|
[A Hat Full of Sky, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Going Postal (1)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
|
|
What was magic, after all, but something that happened at the
|
|
snap of a finger? Where was the magic in that? It was mumbled
|
|
words and weird drawings in old books and in the wrong hands it
|
|
was dangerous as hell, but not one half as dangerous as it could
|
|
be in the right hands.
|
|
|
|
[Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Thud! (2)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
Why bother with a cunning plan when a simple one will do?
|
|
|
|
[Thud!, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%passage 2
|
|
#submitted by Boudewijn
|
|
He wanted to sleep. He'd never felt this tired before.
|
|
Vimes slumped to his knees, and then fell sideways on to the sand.
|
|
When he forced open his eyes he saw pale stars above him, and had once
|
|
again the sensation that there was someone else present.
|
|
He turned his head, wincing at the stab of pain, and saw a small but
|
|
brightly lit folding chair on the sand. A robed figure was reclining
|
|
in it, reading a book. A scythe was stuck in the sand beside it.
|
|
A white skeletal hand turned a page.
|
|
'You'll be Death, then?' said Vimes, after a while.
|
|
|
|
AH. MISTER VIMES, ASTUTE AS EVER. GOT IT IN ONE, said Death, shutting
|
|
the book on his finger to keep the place.
|
|
|
|
'I've seen you before.'
|
|
|
|
I HAVE WALKED WITH YOU MANY TIMES, MISTER VIMES.
|
|
|
|
'And this is /it/, is it?'
|
|
|
|
HAS IT NEVER STRUCK YOU THAT THE CONCEPT OF A WRITTEN NARRATIVE IS
|
|
SOMEWHAT STRANGE? said Death.
|
|
|
|
Vimes could tell when people were trying to avoid something they really
|
|
didn't want to say, and it was happening here.
|
|
'Is it?' he insisted. 'Is this it? This time I die?'
|
|
|
|
COULD BE.
|
|
|
|
'Could be? What sort of answer is that?' said Vimes.
|
|
|
|
A VERY ACCURATE ONE. YOU SEE, YOU ARE HAVING A NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE,
|
|
WHICH INESCAPABLY MEANS THAT I MUST UNDERGO A NEAR VIMES EXPERIENCE.
|
|
DON'T MIND ME. CARRY ON WHATEVER YOU WERE DOING. I HAVE A BOOK.
|
|
|
|
Vimes rolled over on to his stomach, gritted his teeth and pushed
|
|
himself on to his hands and knees again. He managed a few yards before
|
|
slumping back down. He heard the sound of a chair being moved.
|
|
'Shouldn't you be somewhere else?' he said.
|
|
|
|
I AM, said Death, sitting down again.
|
|
|
|
'But you're here!'
|
|
|
|
AS WELL. Death turned a page and, for a person without breath, managed
|
|
a pretty good sigh. IT APPEARS THAT THE BUTLER DID IT.
|
|
|
|
'Did what?'
|
|
|
|
IT IS A MADE-UP STORY. VERY STRANGE. ALL ONE NEEDS TO DO IS TURN TO THE
|
|
LAST PAGE AND THE ANSWER IS THERE. WHAT, THEREFORE, IS THE POINT OF
|
|
DELIBERATEDLY NOT KNOWING?
|
|
|
|
It sounded like gibberish to Vimes, so he ignored it. Some of the aches
|
|
had gone, although his head still hammered. There was an empty feeling,
|
|
everywhere. He just wanted to sleep.
|
|
|
|
[Thud!, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Wintersmith (2)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
That's Third Thoughts for you.
|
|
When a huge rock is going to land on your head,
|
|
they're the thoughts that think:
|
|
Is that an igneous rock, such as granite, or is it sandstone?
|
|
|
|
[Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%passage 2
|
|
They say that there can never be two snowflakes that are exactly alike, but
|
|
has anyone checked lately?
|
|
|
|
[Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Making Money (3)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
Making Money, by Terry Pratchett
|
|
'I'm an Igor, thur. We don't athk quethtionth.'
|
|
'Really? Why not?'
|
|
'I don't know, thur. I didn't athk.'
|
|
|
|
[Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e pasasge
|
|
%passage 2
|
|
The Watch armour fitted like a glove. He'd have preferred it to fit like a
|
|
helmet and breastplate. It was common knowledge that the Watch's approach
|
|
to uniforms was one-size-doesn't-exactly-fit-anybody, and that Commander
|
|
Vimes disapproved of armour that didn't have that kicked-by-trolls look.
|
|
|
|
He liked it to make it clear that it had been doing its job.
|
|
|
|
[Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%passage 3
|
|
'The world is full of things worth more than gold. But we dig the damn
|
|
stuff up and then bury it in a different hole. Where's the sense in that?
|
|
What are we, magpies? Good heavens, /potatoes/ are worth more than gold!'
|
|
'Surely not!' 'If you were shipwrecked on a desert island, what would you
|
|
prefer, a bag of potatoes or a bag of gold?' 'Yes, but a desert island
|
|
isn't Ankh-Morpork!' 'And that proves gold is only valuable because we
|
|
agree it is, right? It's just a dream. But a potato is always worth a
|
|
potato, anywhere. A knob of butter and a pinch of salt and you've got a
|
|
meal, /anywhere/. Bury gold in the ground and you'll be worrying about
|
|
thieves for ever. Bury a potato and in due season you could be looking at
|
|
a dividend of a thousand per cent.'
|
|
|
|
[Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Unseen Academicals (1)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
Be one of the crowd? It went against everything a wizard stood for,
|
|
and a wizard would not stand for anything if he could sit down for it,
|
|
but even sitting down, you had to stand out.
|
|
|
|
[Unseen Academicals, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title I Shall Wear Midnight (2)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
It is important that we know where we come from,
|
|
because if you do not know where you come from,
|
|
then you don't know where you are,
|
|
and if you don't know where you are,
|
|
you don't know where you're going.
|
|
|
|
And if you don't know where you're going, you're probably going wrong.
|
|
|
|
[I Shall Wear Midnight, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%passage 2
|
|
There have been times, lately, when I dearly wished that I
|
|
could change the past. Well, I can't, but I can change the
|
|
present, so that when it becomes the past it will turn out
|
|
to be a past worth having.
|
|
|
|
[I Shall Wear Midnight, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Snuff (2)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
They were crude weapons, to be sure, but a flint axe hitting your head does
|
|
not need a degree in physics.
|
|
|
|
[Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%passage 2
|
|
It is a strange thing to find yourself doing something you
|
|
have apparently always wanted to do, when in fact up until
|
|
that moment you had never known that you always wanted to do it...
|
|
|
|
[Snuff, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
#
|
|
%title Raising Steam (2)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
Yesterday you never thought about it and after today you
|
|
don't know what you would do without it.
|
|
|
|
That was what the technology was doing.
|
|
It was your slave but, in a sense, it might be the other way round.
|
|
|
|
[Raising Steam, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%passage 2
|
|
If you take enough precautions, you never need to take precautions.
|
|
|
|
[Raising Steam, by Terry Pratchett]
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
%e section
|
|
#-----------------------------------------------------
|
|
# Used for interaction with Death.
|
|
#
|
|
%section Death
|
|
%title Death Quotes (2)
|
|
%passage 1
|
|
WHERE THE FIRST PRIMAL CELL WAS, THERE WAS I ALSO. WHERE MAN IS, THERE AM I. WHEN THE LAST LIFE CRAWLS UNDER FREEZING STARS, THERE WILL I BE.
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%passage 2
|
|
I AM DEATH, NOT TAXES. *I* TURN UP ONLY ONCE.
|
|
%e passage
|
|
%e title
|
|
%e section
|