Terry Pratchett

"This is Greebo. Between you and me, he's a fiend from hell."

"Good and bad is tricky," she said. "I ain't too certain about where people stand. P'raps what matters is which way you face." (pp. 348-349)

Nanny Ogg looked him up and down or, at least, down and further down.

"I don't want to hurt you, Mistress Weatherwax," said Mrs. Gogol.

Don't you talk to me about progress. Progress just means bad things happen faster. (p. 305)

Apart from being as well-adapted a parasite as the oak bracket fungus, Lady Volentia D'Arrangement was, by and large, a blameless sort of person. (p. 272)

"We're her godmothers," said Granny.

"I wondered about that," said Nanny. "Then I thought maybe I was imagining things."

Racism was not a problem on the Discworld, because—what with trolls and dwarfs and so on—speciesism was more interesting. Black and white lived in perfect harmony and ganged up on green. (p. 201)

Magrat was annoyed. She was also frightened, which made her even more annoyed. It was hard for people when Magrat was annoyed. It was like being attacked by damp tissue. (p. 229)

"I could make some new gods and get everyone to believe in 'em real good. How about that?" said Mrs. Gogol. Nanny shook her head.

Greebo wasn't a happy cat. People had made a fuss just because he'd dragged a roast turkey off the table. (p. 294)