Moist von Lipwig személy
Moist von Lipwig is a fictional character from Terry Pratchett's Discworld series. He is the protagonist of the novels Going Postal, Making Money, and Raising Steam.
“A banker? Me?”
“Yes, Mr. Lipwig.”
“But I don’t know anything about running a bank!”
“Good. No preconceived ideas.”
“I’ve robbed banks!”
“Capital! Just reverse your thinking,” said Lord Vetinari, beaming. “The money should be on the inside.”
'I have to ask, sir … Why does it have to be done like this?’
Vetinari smiled. ‘Can you keep a secret, Mister Lipwig?’
‘Oh, yes, sir. I’ve kept lots.’
‘Capital. And the point is, so can I. You do not need to know.’
Moist tried. ‘Sir! Even now the trains are part of life to a lot of people, especially to those on the Plains who commute! We can’t just drop everything, sir!’
‘Mister Lipwig. Is there something in the word “tyrant” you do not understand?'
265-266. oldal (Corgi, 2014)
Moist leaned towards the Patrician, and jerked a thumb in the direction of the golem.
'That,' he said, 'is Mr Pump?'
'No,' said Lord Vetinari, leaning forward likewise and suddenly, completely and disconcertingly focusing on Moist. 'He . . . is Mr Pump. Mr Pump is a government official. Mr Pump does not sleep. Mr Pump does not eat. And Mr Pump, Postmaster General, does not stop.'
'And that means what, exactly?'
'It means that if you are thinking of, say, finding a ship headed for Fourecks, on the basis that Mr Pump is big and heavy and travels only at walking pace, Mr Pump will follow you. You have to sleep. Mr Pump does not. Mr Pump does not breathe. The deep abyssal plains of the oceans present no barrier to Mr Pump. Four miles an hour is six hundred and seventy-two miles in a week. It all adds up. And when Mr Pump catches you-'
'Ah, now,' said Moist, holding up a finger. 'Let me stop you there. I know golems are not allowed to hurt people!'
Lord Vetinari raised his eyebrows. 'Good heavens, wherever did you hear that?' 'It's written on . . . something inside their heads! A scroll, or something. Isn't it?' said Moist, uncertainty rising.
'Oh, dear.' The Patrician sighed. 'Mr Pump, just break one of Mr Lipwig's fingers, will you? Neatly, if you please.'
'Yes, Your Lordship.' The golem lumbered forward.
'Hey! No! What?' Moist waved his hands wildly and knocked game pieces tumbling. 'Wait! Wait! There's a rule! A golem mustn't harm a human being or allow a human being to come to harm!'
Lord Vetinari raised a finger. 'Just wait one moment, please, Mr Pump. Very well, Mr Lipwig, can you remember the next bit?'
'The next bit? What next bit?' said Moist. 'There isn't a next bit!'
Lord Vetinari raised an eyebrow. 'Mr Pump?' he said.
'". . . Unless Ordered To Do So By Duly Constituted Authority",' said the golem. 'I've never heard that bit before!' said Moist.
'Haven't you?' said Lord Vetinari, in apparent surprise. 'I can't imagine who would fail to include it.
The truth was that between Moist von Lipwig and Commander Vimes there was a certain… what they politely called a difference of opinion. Sam Vimes did not live in the same world as Moist von Lipwig. Did the man ever laugh, he wondered – the commander must have done something funny at some time. Probably he’d laughed at somebody falling over a cliff or suchlike.
226. oldal (Corgi, 2014)
'No!' Moist's fist thumped the table. 'Never say that, Tolliver! Never! Run before you walk! Fly before you crawl! Keep moving forward! You think we should try to get a decent mail service in the city. I think we should try to send letters anywhere in the world! Because if we fail, I'd rather fail really hugely. All or nothing, Mr Groat!'