If complete and utter chaos was lightning, then he'd be the sort to stand on a hilltop in a thunderstorm wearing wet copper armour and shouting 'All gods are bastards!

There's a saying that all roads lead to Ankh-Morpork. And it's wrong. All roads lead away from Ankh-Morpork, but sometimes people just walk along them the wrong way.

The worst thing you can do is nothing.

There are times in life when people must know when not to let go. Balloons are designed to teach small children this.

Rincewind had always been happy to think of himself as a racist. The One Hundred Meters, the Mile, the Marathon -- he'd run them all.

Rincewind could scream for mercy in nineteen languages, and just scream in another forty-four.

Tourist, Rincewind decided, meant ‘idiot.

...and the funny thing was that people who weren't entirely certain they were right always argued much louder than other people, as if the main person they were trying to convince were themselves.

The trouble with having an open mind, of course, is that people will insist on coming along and trying to put things in it.

I have, before now, waited for a pen to perform a macro.

You never knew about people, like you never knew how deep a pond was because all you saw was the top.

Sometimes a man cannot live up to the best idea they dared to have

Men do with opportunities as children do at the seashore they fill their little hands with sand and then let the grains fall through one by one till all are gone.

When you believe in what you're doing and use your imagination and initiative, you can make a difference.

For most of my life the only ceremonies I've been to at which women were the stars were weddings. So I like weddings.

Avarice seems to have so pervaded our vital principles as to battle all hopes of a remedy but for peace and plenty.

It is only kindred griefs that draw forth our tears, and each weeps really for himself.

I try to create new characters in each book I write. That's what makes writing fun and interesting for me.

I don't like to go to strange places.

If I stopped having passion, I'd be done.

They say the sky is the same everywhere. Travellers, the shipwrecked, exiles, and the dying draw comfort from the thought.