What's The Good Of Having

It Was All Very Well Going On About Pure Logic And How The Universe Was Ruled By Logic And The Harmony Of Numbers, But The Plain Fact Of The Matter Was That The Disc Was Manifestly Traversing Space On The Back Of A Giant Turtle And The Gods Had A Habit Of Going Round To Atheists' Houses And Smashing Their Windows.

It Was So Loud And So Deep, It Wasn't Really Sound At All, Just Something That Turned The Air Hard And Then Hit You With It.

"and What Would Humans Be Without Love?" Rare, Said Death.

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.

Either All Days Are Holy Or None Are.