It Must Be Powerful Language

Any Sensible Ruler Would Have Killed Off Leonard, And Lord Vetinari Was Extremely Sensible And Often Wondered Why He Had Not Done So. He'd Decided That It Was Because, Imprisoned In The Priceless, Inquiring Amber Of Leonard's Massive Mind, Underneath That Bright Investigative Genius Was A Kind Of Willful Innocence That Might In Lesser Men Be Called Stupidity. It Was The Seat And Soul Of That Force Which, Down The Millennia, Had Caused Mankind To Stick Its Fingers In The Electric Light Socket Of The Universe And Play With The Switch To See What Happened - And Then Be Very Surprised When It Did.

I Don't Read An Awful Lot Of Fiction And When I Do, It Tends To Be Lightweight Stuff.

[...] The Awesome Splendor Of The Universe Is Much Easier To Deal With If You Think Of It As A Series Of Small Chunks.

You Know, I Never Imagined There Were He-dryads. Not Even In An Oak Tree." One Of The Giants Grinned At Him. Druellae Snorted. "stupid! Where Do You Think Acorns Come From?

Rincewind Shivered. He Was Not, Of Course, An Atheist; On The Disc The Gods Dealt Severely With Atheists. On The Few Occasions When He Had Some Spare Change He Had Always Made A Point Of Dropping A Few Coppers Into A Temple Coffer, Somewhere, On The Principle That A Man Needed All The Friends He Could Get. But Usually He Didn't Bother The Gods, And He Hoped The Gods Wouldn't Bother Him. Life Was Quite Complicated Enough.