Terry Pratchett
Terry Pratchett
Sir Terence David John "Terry" Pratchett, OBEwas an English author of fantasy novels, especially comical works. He is best known for his Discworld series of 41 novels. Pratchett's first novel, The Carpet People, was published in 1971; after the first Discworld novel, The Colour of Magic, was published in 1983, he wrote two books a year on average. His 2011 Discworld novel Snuff was at the time of its release the third-fastest-selling hardback adult-readership novel since records began in the...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth28 April 1948
CityBeaconsfield, England
This, milord, is my family's axe. We have owned it for almost nine hundred years, see. Of course, sometimes it needed a new blade. And sometimes it has required a new handle, new designs on the metalwork, a little refreshing of the ornamentation . . . but is this not the nine hundred-year-old axe of my family? And because it has changed gently over time, it is still a pretty good axe, y'know. Pretty good.
I commend my soul to any god that can find it.
What was the point of education, he thought, if people went out afterward and used it?
The trouble with thinking was that, once you started, you went on doing it.
Juliet's version of cleanliness was next to godliness, which was to say it was erratic, past all understanding and was seldom seen.
I would not like it thought that I do not buy my own paperclips, sir. I enjoy owning my own paperclips. It means they are mine.
I see evil when I look in my shaving mirror. It is, philosophically, present everywhere in the universe in order, apparently, to highlight the existence of good. I think there is more to this theory, but I tend to burst out laughing at this point.
A lot hinges on the fact that, in most circumstances, people are not allowed to hit you with a mallet. They put up all kinds of visible and invisible signs that say, 'Do not do this' in the hope that it'll work, but if it doesn't, then they shrug, because there is, really, no real mallet at all.
What did they feed the lions and tigers with in the ark, sir?
Were you proposing to shoot these people in cold blood, sergeant?" "Nossir. Just a warning shot inna head, sir.
If he'd been a hero, he would have taken the opportunity to say, "That's what I call sorted!" Since he wasn't a hero, he threw up.
Moist was sure doctors keep skeletons around to cow patients. Nyer, nyer, we know what you look underneath ...
This wasn't food - it was what food became if it had been good and gone to food heaven.
You do know you could find yourself charged with being a dominant species while under the influence of impulse-driven consumerism, don't you?