Wyrd Sisters:
Overview
It would be a pretty good bet that the gods of a world like this probably do not play chess and indeed this is the case. In fact no gods anywhere play chess. They haven't got the imagination. Gods prefer simple, vicious games, where you Do Not Achieve Transcendence but Go Straight To Oblivion; a key to the understanding of all religions is that a god's idea of amusement is Snakes and Ladders with greased rungs.
[p. 6]
On nights such as this, evil deeds are done. And good deeds, of course. But mostly evil deeds.
[p. 7]
'Why don't I feel angry?'
GLANDS, said Death shortly. ADRENALIN AND SO FORTH. AND EMOTIONS. YOU DON'T HAVE THEM. ALL YOU HAVE NOW IS THOUGHT.
[p. 11 - the first person is the late Verence I]
Granny Weatherwax didn't hold with looking at the future, but now she could feel the future looking at her. She didn't like its expression at all.
[p. 21]
Matters in hand. He'd put matters in hand all right. If he closed his eyes he could see the body tumbling down the steps. Had there been a hiss of shocked breath, down in the darkness of the hall? He'd been certain they were alone. Matters in hand! He'd tried to wash the blood off his hands. If he could wash the blood off, he told himself, it wouldn't have happened. He'd scrubbed and scrubbed. Scrubbed till he screamed.
[p. 45, Duke Felmet on Verence I's murder]
'What ho, b'zugda-hiara.' (Footnote: A killing insult in Dwarfish. It means 'Lawn ornament'.)
[p.105]
'I know my rights [...] Dunnage, cowhage-in-ordinary, badinage, leftovers, scrommidge, clary and spunt. And acornage, every other year, and the right to keep two-thirds of a goat on the common.'
[p. 139, citizen rights in Lancre]
This man was clearly mad, but at the heart of his madness was a cold, dreadful sanity, a core of pure interstellar ice in the centre of the furnace. She'd thought him weak under a thin shell of strength, but it went a lot further than that. Somewhere deep inside his mind, somewhere beyond the event horizon of rationality, the sheer pressure of insanity had hammered his madness into something harder than diamond.
[p. 154, Felmet in Esme's eyes]
Ninety percent of true love is acute, ear-burning embarrassment.
[p. 160]
Footnote: The calendar of the Theocracy of Muntab counts down, not up. No-one knows why, but it might not be a good idea to hang around and find out.
[p. 252]
This is Art holding a Mirror up to Life. That's why everything is exactly the wrong way around.
[p. 283]
'Witches just aren't like that,' said Magrat. 'We live in harmony with the great cycles of Nature, and do no harm to anyone, and it's wicked of them to say we don't. We ought to fill their bones with hot lead.'
[p. 290]
'I cannot! He has been kindness itself to me!'
'And you can be Death itself to him.'
[p. 296, actors replaying the events of Verence I's murder]