Category: death

Regular

“They said that dying was just like going to sleep, although of course if you weren’t careful bits of you could rot and drop off.”

– Terry Pratchett – Reaper Man

Regular

“Death’s pale horse looked up from its oats and gave a little whinny of greeting. The horse’s name was Binky. He was a real horse. Death had tried fiery steeds and skeletal horses in the past, and found them impractical, especially the fiery ones, which tended to set light to their own bedding and stand in the middle of it looking embarrassed.”

– Terry Pratchett – Reaper Man

Regular

“In the Ramtop village where they dance the real Morris dance, for example, they believe that no one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away—until the clock he wound up winds down, until the wine she made has finished its ferment, until the crop they planted is harvested. The span of someone’s life, they say, is only the core of their actual existence.”

– Terry Pratchett – Reaper Man

Regular

“No one knew where you were before you were born, but when you were born, it wasn’t long before you found you’d arrived with your return ticket already punched.”

– Terry Pratchett – Reaper Man

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Regular

THAT WILL BE SIX PENNIES, he said.
“Six?” said Roland.
“Ah, we wasna doon here more’n two hour, an’ bang went sixpence!” said Daft Wullie.
ONE ONE-DAY ROUND TRIP, ONE ONE-WAY, said the ferryman.
“I don’t have that much!” Roland shouted. He was beginning to feel little tugs in his head now. Thoughts had to push hard to get as far as his mouth.
“Leave this tae me,” said Rob Anybody. He turned to look down on his fellow Feegles and banged on Roland’s helmet for silence.
“Okay, lads,” he announced. “We’re no’ leavin’!”
WHAT? said the ferryman. OH NO, YOU LEAVE! I’M NOT HAVING YOU DOWN HERE AGAIN! WE’RE STILL FINDING THE BOTTLES FROM LAST TIME! COME ON, GET ON THE BOAT THIS MINUTE!
“Crivens, we canna do that, pal,” said Rob Anybody. “We’re under a geas to help this lad, ye ken. Where he disna go, we dinna go!”
PEOPLE ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO WANT TO STAY HERE! snapped the ferryman.
“Ach, we’ll soon ha’ the old place jumpin’ again,” said Rob Anybody, grinning.
The ferryman drummed his fingers on the pole. They made a clicking sound, like dice.
OH, ALL RIGHT THEN. BUT – AND I WANT TO BE CLEAR ON THIS – THERE IS TO BE NO SINGING!

– a bargain |
Terry Pratchett, Wintersmith

Regular

“Row row yer row boat boat boaty boat down boat stream boat merrily stream like a bird on the boa–”
WILL YOU SHUT UP?
“–bonny boat row stream stream boat boat row yer boat down the merrily stream row merrily merrily boat–”
THIS IS HARDLY APPROPRIATE!

– the feegles add to the ambiance |
Terry Pratchett, Wintersmith

Regular

“Ah, I think I’ve heard of this,” said Roland. “There’s a ferryman, right?”
YES.
He was there, suddenly, standing in a long, low boat. He was all in black, of course in black, with a deep hood that entirely concealed his face and gave a definite feeling that this was just as well.
“Hi, pal,” said Rob Anybody cheerfully. “How’re ye doin’?”
OH, NOT YOU PEOPLE AGAIN, said the dark figure in a voice that was not so much heard as felt. I THOUGHT YOU WERE BANNED.

– some piece of an old friend |
Terry Pratchett, Wintersmith

Regular

“The labyrinth of Ephebe is ancient and full of one hundred and one amazing things you can do with hidden springs, razor-sharp knives, and falling rocks. There isn’t just one guide through it. There are six, and each one knows his way through one-sixth of the labyrinth. Every year they have a special competition, when they do a little redesigning. They vie with one another to see who can make his section even more deadly than the others to the casual wanderer. There’s a panel of judges and a small prize.

The furthest anyone ever got through the labyrinth without a guide was nineteen paces. Well, more or less. His head rolled a further seven paces, but that probably doesn’t count.”

– Terry Pratchett – Small Gods

trollkaruby:

trollkaruby:

The Death from Discworld. <3