[b]Terry Pratchett
It was sad, like those businessmen who came to work in serious clothes but wore colorful ties in a mad, desperate attempt to show there was a free spirit in there somewhere.[/b]
Somewhere between sad and pathetic perhaps. We’ll, until we hear their side.
Most of the members of the convent were old-fashioned Satanists, like their parents and grandparents before them. They’d been brought up to it, and weren’t, when you got right down to it, particularly evil. Human beings mostly aren’t. They just get carried away by new ideas, like dressing up in jackboots and shooting people, or dressing up in white sheets and lynching people, or dressing up in tie-dye jeans and playing guitars at people. Offer people a new creed with a costume and their hearts and minds will follow. Anyway, being brought up as a Satanist tended to take the edge off it. It was something you did on Saturday nights. And the rest of the time you simply got on with life as best you could, just like everyone else.
Somewhere between sad and pathetic perhaps. We’ll, until we hear their side.
Gods don’t like people not doing much work. People who aren’t busy all the time might start to think.
Out loud for example.
My name is immaterial, she said.
That’s a pretty name, said Rincewind.
Hmm, now that you mention it…
Sometimes the truth is arrived at by adding all the little lies together and deducting them from the totality of what is known.
Someone’s truth anyway.
Build a man a fire, and he’ll be warm for a day. Set a man on fire, and he’ll be warm for the rest of his life.
You know, after you teach him how to fish.