The horsemen came closer.Vimes was not good at horsemen. Something in him resented being addressed by anyone eight feet above the ground. He didn't like the sensation of being looked at by nostrils.

I'm sure the Bursar would not agree with those figures," said the Senior Wrangler sourly."That is so,' said Ponder, "but I'm afraid that is because he regards the decimal point as a nuisance.

A few days earlier, Adriana and I had been browsing books at the local library. I happened to turn around and look at her...and that was it. The man who "loved to laugh" in Mary Poppins had nothing on us.

The weed-whacker dad was helping his kid whack weeds. Dad was blitzed to the eyeballs on beer, and the kid was waving the weed whacker around like he was Luke Skywalker. It wasn’t going to end well.

I don’t even get the term, “the birds and the bees”. How does that properly teach a kid about sex?  You never see a pigeon railing adove or a honey bee sticking it to a bumble bee.

He looks at me for a long moment. “You’re not the type of woman who gives up easily, are you?” Ican’t tell if he admires this trait or sees it as a sign of deteriorating mental health.

What we’ve got here is a lunatic genius ghost-in-the-computer monorail that likes riddles and goes faster than the speed of sound. Welcome to the fantasy version of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

The other two entered the room. Vimes gave his men his usual look of resigned dismay."My squad," he mumbled."Fine body of men," said Lady Ramkin. "The good old rank and file, eh?""The rank, anyway," said Vimes.

Sam's hand brushed her shoulder, and she almost jumped out of her skin as he brought his mouth close to her ear and murmured, "You look beautiful. Though I bet you already know that." She most certainly did.

She opened the door within two seconds of his pressing the doorbell, letting out a stream of cats that ran around with such rapidity and randomness of motion that they assumed a liquid state of furry purringness.

I wonder what's the difference between ordinary councillors and privy councillors?" wondered the merchant aloud.The assassin scowled at him. "I think," he said, "it is because you're expected to eat shit.

Commander, I always used to consider that you had a definite anti-authoritarian streak in you.""Sir?""It seems that you have managed to retain this even though you are authority.""Sir?""That's practically zen.

It was funny how people were people everywhere you went, even if the people concerned weren't the people the people who made up the phrase "people are people everywhere" had traditionally thought of as people.

Go get us some burgers and coffee. I'll get on the horn to Mark Hopewell. I'll ask him for a list.""Cheese or plain?""I'm on a diet.""Plain then. And no fries?""I said I'm on a diet, not a death march.

It was a beautiful, clear Southern California kind of Christmas Eve, the kind where Santa shows up in khaki shorts and a Hawaiian shirt and shades, flashing a peace sign with one hand and sipping a Corona with the other.