Well, it would have to be “The Man Who Was Thursday.” It’s a damn good read that I believe should be read by everyone in politics.

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.

She smiles at our husband as she moves, and he blushes, overcome by her beauty. But I know what her smile really means...Her smile is her revenge.

I'm famous by default. I came out of the womb, and people wanted to know who I was because of my parents.

I have settled down in this border area; I am trying to find distinct standards of shape, and I long to experience, formulate, and evoke this dark, heavy, tranquillity.

The easier your hair is to manage the happier you'll be with it and the prettier you'll feel.

make no mistake about it, the detective-story is part of the literature of escape, and not of expression.

Look at the Paris Commune. That was the Dictatorship of the Proletariat.

The essence of sculpture is for me the perception of space, the continuum of our existence.

I was really into writing short fiction and also photography when I was a kid.

He has no clue that I have the patience of a saint. At least that's what Carlos says, although that isn't saying much, considering his fuse is about as short as an eyelash.

Indolence is sweet, and its consequences bitter.