Terry Pratchett

God does not play games with His loyal servants', said the Metatron, but in a worried tone of voice.'Whoopee', said Crowley.

I should have learned this, she thought. I wanted to learn fire, and pain, but I should have learned people.

Even our fears make us feel important, because we fear we might not be.

Watching a dog try to chew a large piece of toffee is a pastime fit for gods. Mr. Fusspot's mixed ancestry had given him a dexterity of jaw that was truly awesome. He somersaulted happily around the floor, making faces like a rubber gargoyle in a washing machine.

Wizards don’t believe in gods. They didn’t deny their existence, of course. They just didn’t believe. It was nothing personal; they weren’t actually rude about it. Gods were a visible part of narrativium that made things work, that gave the world its purpose. It was just that they were best avoided close up.

She was the Goddess Who Must Not Be Named; those who sought her never found her, yet she was known to come to the aid of those in greatest need. And, then again, sometimes she didn't. She was like that.

There were a lot of things he could say. 'Son of a bitch!' would have been a good one. Or he could say, 'Welcome to civilization!' He could have said, 'Laugh this one off!' He might have said, 'Fetch!' But he didn’t, because if he had said any of those things then he’d have known that what he had just done was murder.

The gods,' he said. 'Imprisoned in a thought. And perhaps they were never more than a dream.

It was the kind of storm that suggests the whole sky has swallowed a diuretic.

Two types of people laugh at the law: those that break it and those that make it.

WHAT FOR IS THIS BOX PADDED? IS IT TO BE SAT ON? CAN IT BE THAT IT IS CAT-FLAVOURED?

The important thing about having lots of things to remember is that you’ve got to go somewhere afterwards where you can remember them, you see? You’ve got to stop. You haven’t really been anywhere until you’ve got back home.