Mort: A Discworld Novel

WHAT IS IT CALLED WHEN YOU FEEL WARM AND CONTENT AND WISH THINGS WOULD STAY THAT WAY? “I guess you’d call it happiness,” said Harga.

Established business?” I HAVE BEEN GOING FOR SOME TIME, YES, said Death.

Reannuals are plants that grow backwards in time. You sow the seed this year and they grow last year.

FAIR DOESN’T COME INTO IT. YOU CAN’T TAKE SIDES. GOOD GRIEF. WHEN IT’S TIME, IT’S TIME.

The Creator had a lot of remarkably good ideas when he put the world together, but making it understandable hadn’t been one of them.

“It would seem that you have no useful skill or talent whatsoever,” he said. “Have you thought of going into teaching?”

He’d been wrong, there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and it was a flamethrower.

People don’t alter history any more than birds alter the sky, they just make brief patterns in it.

“How do you get all those coins?” asked Mort. IN PAIRS.