Terry Pratchett Quotes (152 Quotes)

One of the highlights of the first Good Omens tour was Neil and I walking through New York singing Shoehorn with Teeth. Well, we'd had a good breakfast. And you don't get mugged, either.

The trouble with being a god is that you've got no one to pray to.

The flip side of the coin of which Good and Evil are but one side.

Moist was sure doctors keep skeletons around to cow patients. Nyer, nyer, we know what you look underneath ...

He moved on, in the centre of a widening circle. He wasn't an enemy, he was a nemesis.

Either dragons should exist completely or fail to exist at all, he felt. A dragon only half-existing was worse than the extremes.

All tapes left in a car for more than about a fortnight metamorphose into Best of Queen albums.

He says gods like to see an atheist around. Gives them something to aim at.

On the Disc the gods dealt severely with atheists.

People couldn't become truly holy, he said, unless they also had the opportunity to be definitely wicked.

There are hardly any excesses of the most crazed psychopath that cannot easily be duplicated by a normal kindly family man who just comes in to work every day and has a job to do.

Usually he didn't bother the gods, and he hoped the gods wouldn't bother him. Life was quite complicated enough.

Sometimes the truth is arrived at by adding all the little lies together and deducting them from the totality of what is known.

His movements could be called cat-like, except that he did not stop to spray urine up against things.

Every intelligent being, whether it breathes or not, coughs nervously at some time in its life.

Aziraphale collected books. If he were totally honest with himself he would have to have admitted that his bookshop was simply somewhere to store them. He was not unusual in this. In order to maintain his cover as a typical second-hand book seller, he used every means short of actual physical violence to prevent customers from making a purchase. Unpleasant damp smells, glowering looks, erratic opening hours - he was incredibly good at it.

Humans! They lived in the world where the grass continued to be green and the sun rose every day and flowers regularly turned into fruit, and what impressed them? Weeping statues. And wine made out of water! A mere quantum-mechanistic tunnel effect, that'd happen anyway if you were prepared to wait zillions of years. As if the turning of sunlight into wine, by means of vines and grapes and time and anzymes, wasn't a thousand times more impressive and happened all the time...

On the Disc, the Gods aren't so much worshipped, as they are blamed.

But…but you can't treat religion as a sort of buffet, can you? I mean, you can't say yes please, I'll have some of the Celestial Paradise and a helping of the Divine Plan but go easy on the kneeling and none of the Prohibition of Images, they give me wind. Its table d´hôte or nothing, otherwise…well, it would be silly.

Shadwell hated all southerners and, by inference, was standing at the North Pole.

There's no point in believing in things that exist.

You can't map a sense of humor. Anyway, what is a fantasy map but a space beyond which There Be Dragons? On the Discworld we know that There Be Dragons Everywhere. They might not all have scales and forked tongues, but they Be Here all right, grinning and jostling and trying to sell you souvenirs.

Soon to come in licorice, orange, cinnamon, and banana, but not strawberry, because I hate strawberries.

In the words of the philosopher Scepturn, the founder of my profession: am I going to get paid for this?

Fate can be one mean god at times.

But the purpose of the book is not the horror, it is horror's defeat.

It's no wonder most religions are born in the desert, because when men lay beneath that boundless night sky and look up at the infinite expanse of creation they have an uncontrollable urge to put something in the way

Possession of the box conferred a kind of power on the wielder--which was that anyone, confronted with the hypnotic glass eye, would submissively obey the most peremptory orders about stance and expression.

Did I do anything last night that suggested I was sane?

She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close.