“If you trust in yourself. . .and believe in your dreams. . .and follow your star. . . you’ll still get beaten by people who spent their time working hard and learning things and weren’t so lazy.”
The man, the myth, the legend.
The last inktober drawing! Thank you everyone that’s been watching me make silly drawings. I hope youve had a good time, I sure did.
I hope you stick around for more art that i’ll be making as time goes on.
"You'd like Freedom, Truth, and Justice, wouldn't you, Comrade Sergeant?' said Reg encouragingly.
'I'd like a hard-boiled egg,' said Vimes, shaking the match out.
There was some nervous laughter, but Reg looked offended.
'In the circumstances, Sergeant, I think we should set our sights a little higher--'
'Well, yes, we could,' said Vimes, coming down the steps. He glanced at the sheets of papers in front of Reg. The man cared. He really did. And he was serious. He really was. 'But...well, Reg, tomorrow the sun will come up again, and I'm pretty sure that whatever happens we won't have found Freedom, and there won't be a whole lot of Justice, and I'm damn sure we won't have found Truth. But it's just possible that I might get a hard-boiled egg."
Was reading through this article about Sir Terry Pratchett, one of my favorite authors.
All to often I've had to discovered authors I love that hate who I am, and harm our community.
While reading Pratchett's books, I was practically in tears, while seeing characters embrace who they are. Embrace their gender, when that is something I'm trying to do. And it was done so beautifully. All I could think was that he probably was an ally. Happy to have found out he truly was.
Look you know what. Granny weatherwax could easily beat the toymaker. The Librarian could do stuff, he's used to infinite liminal spaces but Granny weatherwax. Mmmmm.
The mirror maze, playing cripple Mr onion on the barge and with Death, getting her boot in the door to the desert (the doors wouldn't lock on her), headology.
She wouldn't be affected by the giggle because she already knows that she's right
So yeah, Granny Weatherwax could have beaten the toymaker without even doing best of 3
"... they believe that no one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away-until the clock he wound up winds down, until the wine she made has finished its ferment, until the crop they planted is harvested. The span of someone's life, they say, is only the core of their actual existence."