People Don't Alter History Any More Than

Magic Is Just A Way Of Saying 'i Don't Know.'

I Believe In Reincarnation,” [bjorn] Said. I Know. “i Tried To Live A Good Life. Does That Help?” That’s Not Up To Me. Death Coughed. Of Course... Since You Believe In Reincarnation... You’ll Be Bjorn Again.

They Obeyed, As Wise Men Do When A Woman Puts Her Foot Down . . .

Poets Have Tried To Describe Ankh-morpork. They Have Failed. Perhaps It's The Sheer Zestful Vitality Of The Place, Or Maybe It's Just That A City With A Million Inhabitants And No Sewers Is Rather Robust For Poets, Who Prefer Daffodils And No Wonder. So Let's Just Say That Ankh-morpork Is As Full Of Life As An Old Cheese On A Hot Day, As Loud As A Curse In A Cathedral, As Bright As An Oil Slick, As Colourful As A Bruise And As Full Of Activity, Industry, Bustle And Sheer Exuberant Busyness As A Dead Dog On A Termite Mound.

And When The Patrician Was Unhappy, He Became Very Democratic. He Found Intricate And Painful Ways Of Spreading That Unhappiness As Far As Possible.