Maskerade (Discworld 18.) (Witches 5.) 91% 26 csillagozás

The door of Mrs Palm's discreet establishment opened at Granny's knock.
The person on the other side was a young woman. Very obviously a young woman. There was no possible way that she could have been mistaken for a young man in any language, especially Braille.

131. oldal

Nanny didn't so much enter places as insinuate herself; she had unconsciously taken a natural talent for liking people and developed it into an occult science. Granny Weatherwax did not doubt that her friend already knew the names, family histories, birthdays and favourite topics of conversation of half the people here, and probably also the vital wedge that would cause them to open up. It might be talking about their children, or a potion for their bad feet, or one of Nanny's really filthy stories, but Nanny would be in and after twenty-four hours they'd have known her all their lives. And they'd tell her things. Of their own free will. Nanny Got On with people. Nanny could get a statue to cry on her shoulder and say what it really thought about pigeons.

260. oldal (Corgi, 1996)

'I thought you didn't like books,' said Agnes.
'I don't,' said Granny, turning a page. 'They can look you right in the face and still lie.'

321. oldal

“But I don't believe in reincarnation!" he protested.
SQUEAK.
And this, Mr Pounder understood with absolute rodent clarity, meant: reincarnation believes in you.”

The letter inside was on a sheet of the Opera House's own notepaper. In neat, copperplate writing, it said:

Ahahahahaha! Ahahahaha! Aahahaha!
BEWARE!!!!!
Yrs Sincerely,
The Opera Ghost

'What sort of person,' said Salzella patiently, 'sits down and writes a maniacal laugh? And all those exclamation marks, you notice? Five? A sure sign of someone who wears his underpants on his head. Opera can do that to a man.'

Greebo fully clothed still managed to communicate the nakedness beneath. The insouciant moustache, the long sideburns and the tousled black hair combined with the well-developed muscles to give the impression of the more louche kind of buccaneer or a romantic poet who'd given up on the opium and tried red meat instead. He had a scar running across his face, and a black patch now where it crossed the eye. When he smiled, he exuded an easy air of undistilled, excitingly dangerous lasciviousness. He could swagger while asleep. Greebo could, in fact, commit sexual harassment simply by sitting very quietly in the next room.

271. oldal (Corgi, 1996)

'I . . . hang around in dark places looking for trouble,' he said.
'Really? There’s a nasty name for people like that,' snapped Granny.
'Yes,' said André. 'It’s policeman.'

328. oldal

'Well, you're a witch!!! Can't you do that thing with the cards and the glasses?'
'Well, yes. . . we could have a poker game,' said Nanny. 'Good idea.'

359. oldal

“-Oh yes? Can you identify yourself?
-Certainly. I'd know me anywhere.”

“But that was just it – hate was exactly the right word. Hate is a force of attraction. Hate is just love with its back turned.”