Here is the blackness of space, the myriad stars gleaming like diamond dust or, as some people would say… — Terry Pratchett
Here is the blackness of space, the myriad stars gleaming like diamond dust or, as some people would say, like great balls of exploding hydrogen a very long way off. But then, some people would say anything.
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"I suppose you wouldn't happen to know the way out of the forest, possibly, by any chance?"
Weems might have had a room-temperature IQ, but he knew idiocy when he saw it.
He wanted to say all this, and couldn't. For a man with an itch to see the whole of infinity, Twoflower never actually moved outside his own head. Telling him the truth would be like kicking a spaniel.
