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i-ate-nt-dead · 2 years
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Sybil knew more or less everybody, or at least everybody who was female, of a certain age, and who had been to the Quirm College for Young Ladies at the same time as Sybil. There appeared to be hundreds of them. They all seemed to have names like Bunny or Bubbles, they kept in touch meticulously, they’d all married influential or powerful men, they all hugged one another when they met and went on about the good old days in Form 3b or whatever, and if they acted together, they could probably run the world or, it occurred to Vimes, might already be doing so. They were Ladies Who Organize.
Terry Pratchett - Thud! (via aeshnacyanea2000)
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i-ate-nt-dead · 2 years
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The Eater of Socks looked up at the wizards, cautiously. Then its jaws started to work again.
…grnf, grnf…
“Here, that’s one of mine!” said the Chair of Indefinite Studies, making a grab. The Eater of Socks backed away hurriedly. …
“Funny lookin’ little thing, ain’t it?” said Ridcully, leaning his staff against the wall.
“Let go, you wretched creature!” said the Chair, making a grab for the sock. “Shoo!” -The Hogfather, Terry Pratchett
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i-ate-nt-dead · 2 years
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The Death of Rats peered at his hugely distorted reflection in a glass ball, and then looked up at the mantelpiece.
He reached it in one jump and ambled curiously through the cards that had been ranged along it. His grey whiskers twitched at messages like ‘Wifhin you Joye and all Goode Cheer at Hogswatchtime & All Through The Yeare’. A couple of them had pictures of a big jolly fat man carrying a sack. In one of them he was riding in a sledge drawn by four enormous pigs. - Terry Pratchett, Hogfather
(Image Credit: JaneBeharrell. Description: A red linocut print of a wild boar. His back is curved so that his snout almost touches his hind feet and he makes a kind of circle.)
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i-ate-nt-dead · 2 years
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Image described: three pieces of fanart of Susan Sto Helit. In the first, she is depicted as a slender woman wearing a white long sleeve collared shirt, a long sensible black skirt and sensible black laced boots. She has a blue brooch at her throat and white hair pulled back with a single unruly lock of black hair. She is holding a fireplace poker and looks determined. A blue glow is emanating out from under her skirt on one side.
In the second, she is exactly the same except she has put on a gray coat with black pointed tails in front.
The third has a blue glow cast. She is seen the same as the first picture, except her face has turned to a skull and blue pinpricks of glowing light are visible in her eye sockets.
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“You know how stuff runs in families? Blue eyes, buck teeth, that sort of thing? Well, Death runs in my family. I remember things that haven’t happened yet and I can TALK THAT TALK and stalk that stalk and…if he gets sidetracked, then I’ll have to do it. And he does get sidetracked.” 
-Susan Sto Helit
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i-ate-nt-dead · 3 years
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“Haven’t been to Omnia for, oh, must be seven hundred years,” said Lu-Tze. “Dry place. Shouldn’t think there’s a ton of good soil in the whole country, either.”
“Off you go, then,” said the Abbot.
“I shall take my mountains,” said Lu-Tze, “the climate will be good for them.”
And he also took his broom and his sleeping mat. The History Monks don’t go in for possessions, they find most things wear out in a century or two. - Terry Pratchett, Small Gods
(Photo by Gregory Hayes. Image description: a sepia photograph of an Asian man from Yushu, China. His face is leathery and lined and he has a scraggly beard. The light glints off his shallow cheekbone and nose. He looks tired but friendly.)
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i-ate-nt-dead · 3 years
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On his chair, the yellow slit of Greebo’s left eye opened lazily.
“Get down, You,” said Granny, lifting the kitten off her head and putting it on the floor.
...
Greebo’s eye opened all the way, and he began to growl softly.
“You sure you know what you’re doing, Esme?” said Nanny Ogg, reaching for a cushion to throw. “He’s very protective of his territory.” You, the kitten, sat on the floor and washed her ears. Then, as Greebo got to his feet, she fixed him with an innocent little stare and took a flying leap onto his nose, landing on it with all her claws out.
“So is she,” said Granny Weatherwax, as Greebo erupted from the chair and hurtled around the room before disappearing into the kitchen. - Terry Pratchett, Wintersmith
(Illustration credit: AndrewSalt. Image description: An ink illustration of two cats. The tiny pure white one, You, is sitting down with eyes happily closed washing her paw. Behind her looms Greebo, black furry hide covered in scars, back arched, mouth open to show menacing fangs, about to bite her.)
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i-ate-nt-dead · 3 years
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I am sharing this with you all under the deep suspicion that this Viñoly character is none other than our beloved Bloody Stupid Johnson (or at the very least descended from or trained by him.)
Bergholt Stuttley (’Bloody Stupid’) Johnson was Ankh-Morpork’s most famous, or rather most notorious, inventor. He was reknowned for never letting his number-blindness, his lack of any skill whatsoever, or his complete failure to grasp the essence of a problem stand in the way of his cheerful progress as the first counter-renaissance man. Shortly after building the famous Collapsed Tower of Quirm he turned his attention to the world of music, particularly large organs and mechanical orchestras. Examples of his handiwork still occasionally come to light in sales, auctions and, quite frequently, wreckage.
- Terry Pratchett, Maskerade
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just learned about a building in london that is so poorly designed it becomes a death ray that melts cars and creates a downdraft effect with wind so powerful that it knocks full grown adults to the ground
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i-ate-nt-dead · 3 years
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[image described: a polished silver helmet sits on a wooden table. The helmet has a flat brim all around and a rounded dome with metal rivets running front to back. There is a sprig of lilac on the helmet.]
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Truth, justice, reasonably priced love, and a hard boiled egg!
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i-ate-nt-dead · 3 years
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A guard on the barricade, Glorious 25th of May
Photographer and cosplayer: Ean Morgan
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i-ate-nt-dead · 3 years
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It wasn’t many steps to Treacle Mine Road and as he turned towards the Watch House a flash of colour caught his eye. And there it was, overhanging a garden wall. Lilac was common in the city. It was vigorous and hard to kill and had to be. The flower buds were noticeably swelling. He stood and stared, as a man might stare at an old battlefield. …they rise hands up, hands up, hands up… -Terry Pratchett, Night Watch
(image description: illustrations in purple of lilac flowers surrounding a metal helmet and the words ‘how do they rise up…’)
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i-ate-nt-dead · 3 years
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Moss had grown over the wooden markers of the other six, but it had been scraped off the central one, revealing the name: JOHN KEEL. And carved underneath by someone who had taken some pains, was: How Do They Rise Up. A huge wreath of lilac flowers, bound with purple ribbon, had been placed on the grave. On top of it, tied round with another piece of purple ribbon, was an egg. “Mrs Palm and Mrs Battye and some of the girls were up here earlier,” said Dibbler. “And of course Madam always makes sure there’s the egg.” “It’s nice, the way they always remember,” said Sergeant Colon. The three stood in silence. They were not, on the whole, men with a vocabulary designed for times like this. After awhile, though, Nobby felt moved to speak. “He gave me a spoon once,” he said, to the air in general. “Yeah, I know,” said Colon. “My dad pinched it off me when he come out of prison, but it was my spoon,” said Nobby persistently. “That means a lot to a kid, your own spoon.” “Come to that, he was the first person to make me a sergeant,” said Colon. “Got busted again, of course, but I knew I could do it again then. He was a good copper.” “He bought a pie off me, first week I was starting out,” said Dibbler. “Ate it all. Didn’t spit out anything.” There was more silence. After awhile, Sergeant Colon cleared his throat, a general signal to indicate that some sort of appropriate moment was now over. There was a general relaxation of muscles. - Terry Pratchett, Night Watch
(image credit: Orsolya Nagy. Image description: a large handmade lilac wreath hangs from a lilac bush)
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i-ate-nt-dead · 3 years
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He wanted to go home. He wanted it so much that he trembled at the thought. But if the price of that was selling good men to the night, if the price was filling those graves, if the price was not fighting with every trick he knew… then it was too high. (…)
What else had the old monk said? History finds a way? Well, it was going to have to come up with something good because it was up against Sam Vimes now.
There are a lot of emotional scenes in Night Watch and this one in particular always gets me because of the Sheer Fundamental Vimes-ness™, so I had to draw it in order to mark the Glorious 25th of May. Shhhh, I know this moment actually takes place at night, but I’m new to backgrounds and daylight is easier to draw.
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i-ate-nt-dead · 3 years
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Truth! Justice! Freedom! Reasonably Priced Love! And A Hard Boiled Egg! Remember the glorious 25th of May!
(image description: a large sign which reads ‘treacle mine road’ adorned with purple lilac flowers)
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i-ate-nt-dead · 3 years
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They were building a barricade in Whalebone Lane. It wasn’t a particularly good one, being made up mostly of overturned market stalls, a small cart and quite a lot of household furniture, but it was a Symbol. - Terry Pratchett, Night Watch
Remember the Glorious 25th of May!
(image described: a black and white photograph of a barricade made from furniture and pallets across a modern street. In the foreground, a small child in suspenders throws their arms out wide in excitement)
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i-ate-nt-dead · 3 years
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A huge wreath of lilac flowers, bound with purple ribbon, had been placed on the grave. On top of it, tied round with another piece of purple ribbon, was an egg. “Mrs Palm and Mrs Battye and some of the girls were up here earlier,” said Dibbler. “And of course Madam always makes sure there’s the egg.” “It’s nice, the way they always remember,” said Sergeant Colon. - Terry Pratchett, Night Watch
(Image credit: persoconchii. Image description:top image is of a large plume of lilac. bottom image shows a brown egg in a porcelain eggcup. It is tied around with a purple ribbon which is also wrapped loosely around a person’s forearm. They have a tattoo of a lilac plume.)
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i-ate-nt-dead · 3 years
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The occupants of these graves had died for something. In the sunset glow, in the rising of the moon, in the taste of the cigar, in the warmth that comes from sheer exhaustion, Vimes saw it. History finds a way. The nature of events had changed but the nature of the dead had not. It had been a mean, shameful little fight that ended them, a flyspecked footnote of history, but they hadn’t been mean or shameful men. They hadn’t run and they could have run with honour. They’d stayed and he wondered if the path had seemed as clear to them then as it did to him now. They’d stayed not because they wanted to be heroes, but because they chose to think of it as their job, and it was in front of them. […] John Keel, Billy Wiglet, Horace Nancyball, Dai Dickins, Cecil ‘Snouty’ Clapman, Ned Coates and, technically, Reg Shoe. Probably there were no more than twenty people in the city now who knew all the names, because there were no statues, no monuments, nothing written down anywhere. You had to have been there. He felt privileged to have been there twice. - Terry Pratchett, Night Watch
(Image Credit: Doris Potter. Image Described: A single worn gravestone stands alone in a carpet of some kind of purple flower.)
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i-ate-nt-dead · 3 years
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Glorious 25th of May tea towel (and therefore great for Towel Day, which is also today) from the Discworld Emporium
(Image description: a white cotton tea towel printed on in lilac. At the top, in silhouette, a person stands on the barricade waving a flag. The words ‘The Glorious 25th of May. Beneath that, the words: Truth! Freedom! Justice! REASONABLY PRICED LOVE!’ The O in ‘love’ is a hardboiled egg in an eggcup.)
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