From: Sean Hunt Date: Tue, 7 Apr 2015 16:47:43 +0000 (-0400) Subject: Add quotes for Eric and Moving Pictures. X-Git-Tag: NetHack-3.6.0_RC01~480^2~20 X-Git-Url: https://granicus.if.org/sourcecode?a=commitdiff_plain;h=05c284b2e8a5732d3afff2ce2f0183ef587fe9de;p=nethack Add quotes for Eric and Moving Pictures. --- diff --git a/dat/tribute b/dat/tribute index 052b8110c..9eb32c030 100644 --- a/dat/tribute +++ b/dat/tribute @@ -148,21 +148,42 @@ Guards! Guards!, by Terry Pratchett # # # -%title Eric (1) +%title Eric (2) %passage 1 -Eric, by Terry Pratchett - - + 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 # # # -%title Moving Pictures (1) +%title Moving Pictures (4) %passage 1 -Moving Pictures, by Terry Pratchett - - + 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 # @@ -492,11 +513,27 @@ Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett # # # -%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 #