[b]Terry Pratchett
Death was standing behind a lectern, poring over a map. He looked at Mort as if he wasn’t entirely there.
Yᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ’ᴛ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ Bᴀʏ Oғ Mᴀɴᴛᴇ, ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ? he said.
No, sir, said Mort.
Fᴀᴍᴏᴜs sʜɪᴘᴡʀᴇᴄᴋ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ.
Was there?
Tʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ, said Death, ɪғ I ᴄᴀɴ ғɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀᴍɴ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ.[/b]
Say you knew. Would you tell him?
He hated games they made the world look too simple. Chess, in particular, had always annoyed him. It was the dumb way the pawns went off and slaughtered their fellow pawns while the king lounged about doing nothing. If only the pawns would’ve united … the whole board could’ve been a republic in about a dozen moves.
Next up: Monopoly.
And these are your reasons, my lord?
Do you think I have others? said Lord Vetinari. My motives, as ever, are entirely transparent.
Hughnon reflected that ‘entirely transparent’ meant either that you could see right through them or that you couldn’t see them at all.
Or: And these are your reasons, Mr. President?
Two types of people laugh at the law: those that break it and those that make it.
For some though how do you tell them apart?
Most of the great triumphs and tragedies of history are caused not by people being fundamentally good or fundamentally evil, but by people being fundamentally people.
Of course he’s just paraphrasing Nietzsche.
He felt that the darkness was full of unimaginable horrors - and the trouble with unimaginable horrors was that they were only too easy to imagine…
On the other hand, not just the darkness anymore.