“I'm not cruel, sir, I won't shoot you in the guts, but I will make you realize how much you took your toes for granted.”

“You just put that sword away, sir, please," said the voice of Lance-Constable Vimes. "You will not shoot me, you young idiot. That would be murder," said the captain calmly. "Not where I'm aiming, sir.”

“Mort was already aware that love made you feel hot and cold and cruel and weak, but he hadn't realized that it could make you stupid.”

“How can you protect yourself by carrying a sword if you don’t know how to use it?’Not me, sir. Other people. They see the sword and don’t attack me,’ said Maladict patiently.Yes, but if they did, lad, you wouldn’t be any good with it,’ said the sergeant.No, sir. I’d probably settle for just ripping their heads off, sir. That’s what I mean by protection, sir. Theirs, not mine. And I’d get hell from the League if I did that, sir.”

“Were you proposing to shoot these people in cold blood, sergeant?""Nossir. Just a warning shot inna head, sir.”

“I'm sure you won't dream of trying to escape from your obligations by fleeing the city...''I assure you the thought never even crossed my mind, lord.''Indeed? Then if I were you I'd sue my face for slander.”

“Yes, sir, thank you, sir, and I wouldn’t trust me one little inch, sir. I knows a bad one when I sees them. I have a mirror.”