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-%title Eric (1)
+%title Eric (2)
%passage 1
-Eric, by Terry Pratchett
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+ No enemies had ever taken Ankh-Morpork. Well, /technically/ they had, quite often; the city welcomed free-spending barbarian invaders, but somehow the puzzled raiders always found, after a few days, that they didn't own their own horses any more, and within a couple of months they were just another minority group with its own graffiti and food shops.
+ [Terry Pratchett, Eric]
+%e passage
+%passage 2
+ Rincewind looked down at the broad steps they were climbing. They were something of a novelty; each one was built out of large stone letters. The one he was just stepping on to, for example, read: I Meant It For The Best.
+ The next one was: I Thought You'd Like It.
+ Eric was standing on: For The Sake Of The Children.
+ 'Weird, isn't it?' he said. 'Why do it like this?'
+ 'I think they're meant to be good intentions,' said Rincewind. This was a road to hell, and demons were, after all, traditionalists.
%e passage
%e title
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-%title Moving Pictures (1)
+%title Moving Pictures (4)
%passage 1
-Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett
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-
+ This is space. It's sometimes called the final frontier.
+ (Except that of course you can't have a /final/ frontier, because there'd be nothing for it to be a frontier /to/, but as frontiers go, it's pretty penultimate...)
+ [Terry Pratchett, Moving Pictures]
+%e passage
+%passage 2
+ By and large, the only skill the alchemists of Ankh-Morpork had discovered so far was the ability to turn gold into less gold.
+ [Terry Pratchett, Moving Pictures]
+%e passage
+%passage 3
+ There was a dog sitting by his feet.
+ It was small, bow-legged and wiry, and basically grey but with patches of brown, white, and black in outlying areas...
+ It looked up slowly, and said 'Woof?'
+ Victor poked an exploratory finger in his ear. It must have been a trick of an echo, or something. It wasn't that the dog had gone 'woof!', although that was practically unique in itself; most dogs in the universe /never/ went 'woof!', they had complicated barks like 'whuuugh!' and 'hwhoouf!'. No, it was that it hadn't in fact /barked/ at all. It had /said/ 'woof'.
+ 'Could have bin worse, mister. I could have said "miaow".'
+%e passage
+%passage 4
+ ''Twas beauty killed the beast,' said the Dean, who liked to say things like that.
+ 'No it wasn't,' said the Chair. 'It was it splatting into the ground like that.'
%e passage
%e title
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-%title Making Money (1)
+%title Making Money (3)
%passage 1
Making Money, by Terry Pratchett
+ 'I'm an Igor, thur. We don't athk quethtionth.'
+ 'Really? Why not?'
+ 'I don't know, thur. I didn't athk.'
+ [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
+%e pasasge
+%passage 2
+ The Watch armour fitted like a glove. He'd have preferred it to fit like a helmet and breastplate. It was common knowledge that the Watch's approach to uniforms was one-size-doesn't-exactly-fit-anybody, and that Commander Vimes disapproved of armour that didn't have that kicked-by-trolls look. He liked it to make it clear that it had been doing its job.
+ [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
+%e passage
+%passage 3
+ 'The world is full of things worth more than gold. But we dig the damn stuff up and then bury it in a different hole. Where's the sense in that? What are we, magpies? Good heavens, /potatoes/ are worth more than gold!'
+ 'Surely not!'
+ 'If you were shipwrecked on a desert island, what would you prefer, a bag of potatoes or a bag of gold?'
+ 'Yes, but a desert island isn't Ankh-Morpork!'
+ 'And that proves gold is only valuable because we agree it is, right? It's just a dream. But a potato is always worth a potato, anywhere. A knob of butter and a pinch of salt and you've got a meal, /anywhere/. Bury gold in the ground and you'll be worrying about thieves for ever. Bury a potato and in due season you could be looking at a dividend of a thousand per cent.'
+ [Making Money, by Terry Pratchett]
%e passage
%e title
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projects / nethack / commitdiff