Category: granny weatherwax

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“Goats did have names for themselves, she well knew: there was ‘goat who is my kid,’ ‘goat who is my mother,’ ‘goat who is herd leader,’ and half a dozen other names not least of which was ‘goat who is this goat.”

– Terry Pratchett – Equal Rites

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“I’m not a lady, I’m a witch.”

– Terry Pratchett – Equal Rites

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“That’s one form of magic, of course." 

"What, just knowing things?”

“Knowing things that other people don’t know.

– Terry Pratchett – Equal Rites

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“She was also, by the standards of other people, lost. She would not see it like that. She knew where she was, it was just that everywhere else didn’t.”

– Terry Pratchett – Equal Rites

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discworldtour:

The two-man band struck up. The men, in two lines of three facing each other, counted the beat and then leaped… Tiffany turned to Granny as twelve hobnailed boots crashed to the ground, throwing up sparks.
“Tell me how to take away pain,” she said, above the noise of the dance.
Crash!
“It’s hard,” said Granny, not taking her eyes off the dancers. Crash went the boots again.
“You can move it out of the body?”
Crash! 
“Sometimes. Or hide it. Or make a cage for it and carry it away. And all of it’s dangerous, and it will kill you if you don’t respect it, young woman. It is all price and no profit. You are asking me to tell you how to put your hand in the lion’s mouth.”
Crash!
“I must know, to help the Baron. It’s bad. There is a lot I have to do.”
“This you choose to do?” said Granny, still watching.
“Yes!”
Crash!
“This is your Baron who doesn’t like witches?” said Granny, her gaze going from face to face in the crowd.
“But who does like witches until they need one, Mistress Weatherwax?” said Tiffany sweetly.
Crash!
“This is a reckoning, Mistress Weatherwax,” Tiffany added. After all, once you’ve kissed the Wintersmith, you’re in the mood to dare. And Granny Weatherwax smiled, as if she’d done all that was expected of her.

– a new season, another reckoning |
Terry Pratchett, Wintersmith

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The two-man band struck up. The men, in two lines of three facing each other, counted the beat and then leaped… Tiffany turned to Granny as twelve hobnailed boots crashed to the ground, throwing up sparks.
“Tell me how to take away pain,” she said, above the noise of the dance.
Crash!
“It’s hard,” said Granny, not taking her eyes off the dancers. Crash went the boots again.
“You can move it out of the body?”
Crash! 
“Sometimes. Or hide it. Or make a cage for it and carry it away. And all of it’s dangerous, and it will kill you if you don’t respect it, young woman. It is all price and no profit. You are asking me to tell you how to put your hand in the lion’s mouth.”
Crash!
“I must know, to help the Baron. It’s bad. There is a lot I have to do.”
“This you choose to do?” said Granny, still watching.
“Yes!”
Crash!
“This is your Baron who doesn’t like witches?” said Granny, her gaze going from face to face in the crowd.
“But who does like witches until they need one, Mistress Weatherwax?” said Tiffany sweetly.
Crash!
“This is a reckoning, Mistress Weatherwax,” Tiffany added. After all, once you’ve kissed the Wintersmith, you’re in the mood to dare. And Granny Weatherwax smiled, as if she’d done all that was expected of her.

– a new season, another reckoning |
Terry Pratchett, Wintersmith

thyinum:

thyinum:

Professor McGonagall and Granny Weatherwax would surely find smth to talk about over a cup of tea

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thyinum:

Favorite witches

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On the chilly river just above the thundering Lancre falls, a tree trunk was moored. Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg stood on a huge, water-worn stone in the middle of the torrent and watched it. 

– this is just such a good image I had to share it |
Terry Pratchett, Wintersmith

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She showed them the picture in the book. All sorts of fruits, vegetables, and grain were spilling from the Cornucopia’s wide mouth.
“Mostly fruit, though,” said Nanny. “Not many carrots, but I suppose they’re up in the pointy end. They’d fit better there.”
“Typical artist,” said Granny. “He just painted the showy stuff in the front. Too proud to paint an honest potato!” She poked at the page with an accusing finger. “And what about these cherubs? We’re not going to get them too, are we? I don’t like to see little babies flying through the air.”
“They turn up a lot in old paintings,” said Nanny Ogg. “They put them in to show it’s Art and not just naughty pictures of ladies with not many clothes on.”
“Well, they’re not fooling me, said Granny Weatherwax.

– art critics |
Terry Pratchett, Wintersmith