Terry Pratchett

It's a strange thing about determined seekers-after-wisdom that, no matter where they happen to be, they'll always seek that wisdom which is a long way off. Wisdom is one of the few things that looks bigger the further away it is. (p. 32)

Death said nothing. He helped her up onto the horse.

With any luck, they'd have best of both worlds. Not just feeling...but knowing.

"I hate mirrors," muttered the Duc.

The Yen Buddhists are the richest religious sect in the universe. They hold that the accumulation of money is a great evil and a burden to the soul. They therefore, regardless of personal hazard, see it as their unpleasant duty to acquire as much as possible in order to reduce the risk to innocent people. (p. 125)

Greebo turned upon Granny Weatherwax a yellow-eyed stare of self-satisfied malevolence, such as cats always reserve for people who don't like them, and purred. Greebo was possibly the only cat who could snigger in purr. (p. 48)

It's a big responsibility, fairy godmothering. Knowing when to stop, I mean. People whose wishes get granted often don't turn out to be very nice people. So should you give them what—or what they need? (p. 10).

But then...it used to be so simple, once upon a time.

What's the good of having mastery over cosmic balance and knowing the secrets of fate if you can't blow something up? (p. 305)

"Look," said Magrat desperately, "why don't I go by myself?"

"I suppose there's not some kind of magic you don't know about?"

Up in the gloom the heads of dead animals haunted the walls. The Ramkins seemed to have endangered more species than an ice age. (p. 349)