Granny Weatherwax Was Firmly Against

Don't You *ever* Let Go?" "i Haven't Yet." "why?" "i Suppose... Because In This World, After Everyone Panics, There's Always Got To Be Someone To Tip The Wee Out Of The Shoe.

As Far As I'm Concerned, I'm A Writer Who's Writing Books, And Therefore, I Don't Want To Die. You'd Miss The End Of The Book, Wouldn't You? You Can't Die With An Unfinished Book.

Behind Him The Master Of Ceremonies Cleared His Throat. His Eyes Took On A Distant, Glazed Look.the Stealer Of Souls, He Said In The Faraway Voice Of One Whose Ears Aren't Hearing What His Mouth Is Saying, Defeater Of Empires, Swallower Of Oceans, Thief Of Years, The Ultimate Reality, Harvester Of Mankind, The-all Right, All Right. I Can See Myself In.

Down There - He Said - Are People Who Will Follow Any Dragon, Worship Any God, Ignore Any Inequity. All Out Of A Kind Of Humdrum, Everyday Badness. Not The Really High, Creative Loathsomeness Of The Great Sinners, But A Sort Of Mass-produced Darkness Of The Soul. Sin, You Might Say, Without A Trace Of Originality. They Accept Evil Not Because They Say Yes, But Because They Don't Say No.

There Are, Always And Only, The Bad People, But Some Of Them Are On Opposite Sides.