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
at least nine-tenths of all the original reality ever created lies outside the multiverse, and since the multiverse by definition includes absolutely everything that is anything, this puts a bit of a strain on things. Outside the boundaries of the universe lie the raw realities, the could-have-beens, the might-bes, the never-weres, the wild ideas, all being created and uncreated chaotically like elements in fermenting supernovas. Just occasionally where the walls of the worlds have worn a bit thin, they can leak in.
We're on a mission from Glod.
Death: "THERE ARE BETTER THINGS IN THE WORLD THAN ALCOHOL, ALBERT." Albert: "Oh, yes, sir. But alcohol sort of compensates for not getting them.
The Tezuman priests have a sophisticated calendar and an advanced horology," quoted Rincewind. "Ah," said Eric, "Good." "No," said Rincewind patiently. "It means time measurement." "Oh.
Any wizard bright enough to survive for five minutes was also bright enough to realize that if there was any power in demonology, then it lay with the demons. Using it for your own purposes would be like trying to beat mice to death with a rattlesnake.
There's a door." "Where does it go?" "It stays where it is, I think.
These people were not only cheering, they were throwing flowers and hats. The hats were made of stone, but the thought was there.
It is possibly worth mentioning at this point that Mr. Young thought that paparazzi was a kind of Italian linoleum.
He sighed. It had come to this. He was a responsible authority, and people could use terms like "core values" at him with impunity.
This time it had been magic. And it didn't stop being magic just because you found out how it was done.
There will be justice," said Brutha. "If there is no justice, there is nothing.
No. Men should die for lies. But the truth is too precious to die for.
Om rubed his head. This wasn't god-like thinking. It seemed simpler when you were up here. It was all a game. You forgot that it wasn't a game down there. People died. Bits got chopped off. We're like eagles up here, he thought. Sometimes we show tortoise how to fly. Then we let go.
I think," he said, "I think, if you want thousands, you have to fight for one.