Many people who had come to know Rincewind had come to treat him as a sort of two-legged miner's canary and tended to assume that if Rincewind was still upright and not actually running then some hope remained.
Terry Pratchett, Sourcery
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“I don’t know what to do,” he said.
“No harm in that. I’ve never known what to do,” said Rincewind with hollow cheerfulness. “Been completely at a loss my whole life.” He hesitated “I think it’s called being human, or something.”
Terry Pratchett, ‘Sourcery’.
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Cats are nice.
“I meant," said Ipslore bitterly, "what is there in this world that truly makes living worthwhile?"
Death thought about it.
"CATS," he said eventually. "CATS ARE NICE.”
― Terry Pratchett, Sourcery
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Such tinkering with Destiny could mean the downfall of the world. There must be a Chance, however small. The lawyers of Fate demand a loophole in every prophecy.
-Terry Pratchett, via Death in Sourcery
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another kickass colorful line by terry pratchett. It's so ridiculously creative and simple.
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“It's vital to remember who you really are. It's very important. It isn't a good idea to rely on other people or things to do it for you, you see. They always get it wrong.”
Terry Pratchett, Sourcery
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I’d recommend pairing the Librarian with the wizzard Rincewind for optimal disc-saving potential. (Spot Illustration by me, text from Sourcery, by Terry Pratchett)
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“I meant,” said Ipslore, bitterly, “what is there in this world that makes living worthwhile?”
Death thought about it.
CATS, he said eventually, CATS ARE NICE.
“Curse you!”
MANY HAVE, said Death, evenly.
— Sourcery (Terry Pratchett)
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"The future held its breath, waiting for Rincewind to walk away. He didn't do this for three reasons. One was alcohol; one was the tiny flame of pride that flickers in the heart of even the most careful coward; but the third was the voice, it was beautiful."
Terry Pratchett, Sourcery
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the way this line was crafted is so wonderful. I can't stop admiring it.
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“I meant," said Ipslore bitterly, "what is there in this world that truly makes living worthwhile?"
Death thought about it.
CATS, he said eventually. CATS ARE NICE.”
― Terry Pratchett, Sourcery
source
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i feel i should remember that lord Vetinari, the Patrician of Ankh-Morpork spent a week or two as a small yellow lizard
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a truly wild ride in less than 2 pages. okay first of all
love the discworld's explanation for dinosaurs
and finally
these books make me love words.
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One of Rincewind's tutors had said of him that "to call his understanding of magical theory abysmal is to leave no suitable word to describe his grasp of its practice." This had always puzzled him. He objected to the fact that you had to be good at magic to be a wizard. He knew he was a wizard, deep in his head. Being good at magic didn't have anything to do with it. That was just an extra, it didn't actually define someone.
Terry Pratchett, Sourcery
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"This is a robe," said Rincewind quickly. "And you'd better watch out, because I'm a wizard." He took a deep breath. "Lay a finger on me, and you'll make me wish you hadn't. I warn you."
—Terry Pratchett, Sourcery
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Reposting this picture of Rincewind and Coin by itself; it was inspired by this post by @kingofmelancholia!
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Cringe little wizard with his cringe little personality
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WEIGHT DOESN'T COME INTO IT. MY STEED HAS CARRIED ARMIES. MY STEED HAS CARRIED CITIES. YEA, HE HATH CARRIED ALL THINGS IN THEIR DUE TIME, said Death. BUT HE'S NOT GOING TO CARRY YOU THREE.
“Why not?”
IT'S A MATTER OF THE LOOK OF THE THING.
“It's going to look pretty good, then, isn't it,” said War testily, “the One Horseman and Three Pedestrians of the Apocralypse.”
“Perhaps you could ask them to wait for us?” said Pestilence, his voice sounding like something dripping out of the bottom of a coffin.
I HAVE THINGS TO ATTEND TO, said Death. He made a little clicking noise with his teeth. I'M SURE YOU'LL MANAGE. YOU NORMALLY DO.
War watched the retreating horse.
“Sometimes he really gets on my nerves. Why is he always so keen to have the last word?” he said.
“Force of habit, I suppose.”
They turned back to the tavern. Neither spoke for some time, and then War said, “Where's Famine?”
“Went to find the kitchen.”
“Oh.” War scuffed one armored foot in the dust, and thought about the distance to Ankh. It was a very hot afternoon. The Apocralypse could jolly well wait.
“One for the road?” he suggested.
“Should we?” said Pestilence, doubtfully. “I thought we were expected. I mean, I wouldn't like to disappoint people.”
“We've got time for a quick one, I'm sure,” War insisted. “Pub clocks are never right. We've got bags of time. All the time in the world.”
— Sourcery (Terry Pratchett)
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