“Hah!" said Granny Weatherwax. "I should just say it is a folk song! I knows all about folk songs. Hah! You think you're listenin' to a nice song about...cuckoos and fiddlers and nightingales and whatnot, and then it turns out to be about...something else entirely," she added darkly.”

“I've made up a song about the new Folks," he (Little Georgie)added eagerly. "Would you like to hear it?"Don't think I would," answered Uncle Analdas.”

“Ruby said there were many songs that you could not say anybody in particular had made by himself. A song went around from fiddler to fiddler and each one added something and took something away so that in time the song became a different thing from what it had been, barely recognizable in either tune or lyric. But you could not say the song had been improved, for as was true of all human effort, there was never advancement. Everything added meant something lost, and about as often as not the thing lost was preferable to the thing gained, so that over time we'd be lucky if we just broke even. Any thought otherwise was empty pride.”

“A song went around from fiddler to fiddler and each one added something and took something away so that in time the song became a different thing from what it had been, barely recognizable in either tune or lyric. But you could not say the song had been improved, for as was true of all human effort, there was never advancement.Everything added meant something lost, and about as often as not the thing lost was preferable to the thing gained, so that over time we'd be lucky if we just broke even.Any thought otherwise was empty pride.”

“We’re your friends,” said Bridget.“And we’re worried about you,”said Pepe.“I’m fine.” Then I mean to laugh a silly, carefree kind of laugh, but it came out more maniacal than intended. “HAH-hee-hee-hah-hah-HAH!”Bridget and Pepe exchanged terrified looks.”

“I think there is a song out there to describe just about any situation.”