Terry Pratchett

Keep 'em busy. That was one of the three rules of being chief that old Grimm had passed on to him. Act confidently, never say 'I don't know,' and when all else fails, keep 'em busy.

They called themselves the Munrungs. It meant The People, or The True Human Beings.

It's what most people call themselves, to begin with. And then one day the tribe meets some other People or, if it's not been a good day, The Enemy. If only they'd think up a name like Some More True Human Beings, it'd save a lot of trouble later on.

I wish that the people who sing about the deeds of heroes would think about the people who have to clear up after them.

'Stop that!' he shouted. 'You're soldiers! You're not supposed to fight!'

'But we should kill him!'

'No. You've been listen to Brocando too often,' said Bane.

Brocando bristled. 'You know what he is! Why not kill--' he began, but he was interrupted.

'Because it doesn't matter what he is. It matters what we are.'

'Whose side are they on?' said Brocando.

'Sides? Their own, I suppose, just like everyone else.'

'What would Deftmenes be if we went around obeying orders all the time?'

'They might be ruling the Carpet,' said Pismire.

'Ha!' said Brocando, 'but the trouble about obeying orders is, it becomes a habit. And then everything depends on who's giving the orders.'

Anyway, just because you're sworn enemies doesn't mean you can't be friends, does it?