“Zoology, eh? That's a big word, isn't it.""No, actually it isn't," said Tiffany. "Patronizing is a big word. Zoology is really quite short.”

“Hello, little girl," he said, which was only his first big mistake. "I'm sure you want to know all about hedgehogs, eh?""I did this one last year," said Tiffany.The man looked closer, and his grin faded. "Oh, yes," he said. "I remember. You asked all those... little questions.""I would like a question answered today," said Tiffany."Provided it's not one about how you get baby hedgehogs," said the man."No," said Tiffany patiently. "It's about zoology.""Zoology, eh? That's a big word, isn't it.""No, actually it isn't," said Tiffany. "Patronizing is a big word. Zoology is really quite small.”

“And people think she killed him?" said Miss Tick. She sighed. "They probably think she cooked him in the oven, or something.""They never actually said," said Tiffany. "But I think it was something like that, yes.""And did his horse turn up?" said Miss Tick."No," said Tiffany. "And that was strange, because if it'd turned up anywhere along the hills, people would have noticed it..."Miss Tick folded her hands, sniffed, and smiled a smile with no humor in it."Easily explained," she said. "Mrs. Snapperly must have had a really big oven, eh?""No, it was really quite small," said Tiffany. "Only ten inches deep.”

“That's No'-as-big-as-Medium-Sized-Jock-but-bigger-than-Wee-Jock-Jock, mistress,' said Not-as-big-as-Medium-Sized-Jock-but-bigger-than-Wee-Jock-Jock. 'Ye were one jock short,' he added helpfully.”

“She gazed out across the rooftops of Ankh-Morpork and reasoned like this: writing was only the words that people said, squeezed between layers of paper until they were fossilized (fossils were well known on the Discworld, great spiraled shells and badly constructed creatures that were left over from the time when the Creator hadn't really decided what He wanted to make and was, as it were, just idly messing around with the Pleistocene). And the words people said were just shadow of real things. But some things were too big to be really trapped in words, and even the words were too powerful to be completely tamed by writing.”

“Can I ask a question, sir?" said Maurice, as Death turned to go.You May Not Get An Answer."I suppose there isn't a Big Cat in the Sky, is there?"I'm Surprised At You, Maurice. Of Course There Are No Cat Gods. That Would Be Too Much Like...Work.Maurice nodded. One good thing about being a cat, apart from the extra lives, was that the theology was a lot simpler.”

“I get it,' said the prisoner. 'Good Cop, Bad Cop, eh?'If you like.' said Vimes. 'But we're a bit short staffed here, so if I give you a cigarette would you mind kicking yourself in the teeth?”