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bending_sickleAnnotated LSpace File.
“Truth! Justice! Freedom! And a hard-boiled egg!”
“The cemetery of Small Gods was for the people who didn’t know what happened next. They didn’t know what they believed in or if there was life after death and, often, they didn’t know what hit them. They’d gone through life being amiably uncertain, until the ultimate certainty had claimed them at last. Among the city’s bone orchards the cemetery was the equivalent of the drawer marked Misc., where people were interred in the glorious expectation of nothing very much.”
“It was all in the movement. If you moved with authority, you got a second or two extra. Authority was everything.”
“’Twenty-five dollars or I walk out that door,’ he said. It was probably a phrase never ever said before by any prisoner anywhere on any world.”
“The nature of the night changed, but the nature of the beast remained the same.”
“’Would you let a murderer off for a thousand dollars?’
‘No, sir!’
‘A thousand dollars’d set your mm up in a nice place in a good part of town, though.’
‘Knock it off, Sarge. I’m not like that.’
‘You were when you took that dollar. Everything else is just haggling over the price.’”
“’Yeah, all right, but everyone knows they torture people,’ mumbled Sam.
‘Do they?’ said Vimes. ‘Then why doesn’t anyone do anything about it?’
‘’Cos they torture people.’”
“And then he adopted his usual policy: when you think there’s wolves on our trail, throw someone off the sleigh.”
“You’re walking around, Sam, with a weapon you don’t know how to use. That’s worse than walking around knowing how to use a weapon and not having one. A man with a weapon he doesn’t know how to use is likely to have it shoved where the sun does not shine.”
“But when you’re falling off the cliff it’s too late to wonder if there might have been a better way up the mountain…”
“It takes a thousand steps to get to the top of a mountain but one little hop’ll take you all the way back to the bottom.”
“Vimes felt his hand begin to move of its own accord –
And stopped. Red rage froze.
There was the beast, all around him. And that’s what it was. A beast. Useful, but still a beast. You could hold it on a chain, and make it dance and juggle balls. It didn’t think. It was dumb. What you were, what you were, was not the beast.
You didn’t have to do what it wanted. If you did, Carcer won.
He dropped the sword.”
* Night Watch, TPratchett
