Who shall I shoot? You choose. Now, listen very carefully: where’s your coffee? You’ve got coffee, haven’t you? C’mon, everyone’s got coffee! Spill the beans!
This was not a fairy-tale castle and there was no such thing as a fairy-tale ending, but sometimes you could threaten to kick the handsome prince in the ham-and-eggs.
And, while it was regarded as pretty good evidence of criminality to be living in a slum, for some reason owning a whole street of them merely got you invited to the very best social occasions.
She’d become a governess. It was one of the few jobs a known lady could do. And she’d taken to it well. She’d sworn that if she did indeed ever find herself dancing on rooftops with chimney sweeps she’d beat herself to death with her own umbrella.
The important thing about adventures, thought Mr. Bunnsy, was that they shouldn’t be so long as to make you miss mealtimes.
Verence would rather cut his own leg off than put a witch in prison, since it’d save trouble in the long run and probably be less painful.
An Assassin, a real Assassin had to look like one-black clothes, hood, boots, and all. If they could wear any clothes, any disguise, then what could anyone do but spend all day in a small room with a loaded crossbow pointed at the door?
I was merely endeavoring to indicate that if we do not grab events by the collar they will have us by the throat. -Lord Vetinari.
One of the highlights of the first Good Omens tour was Neil and I walking through New York singing Shoehorn with Teeth. Well, we’d had a good breakfast. And you don’t get mugged, either.
In the words of the philosopher Sceptum, the founder of my profession: am I going to get paid for this?
Lots of people would be as cowardly as me if they were brave enough.
Perhaps it would be simpler if you just did what you’re told and didn’t try to understand things.
Of course, it is very important to be sober when you take an exam. Many worthwhile careers in the street-cleansing, fruit-picking and subway-guitar-playing industries have been founded on a lack of understanding of this simple fact.
I staggered into a Manchester bar late one night on a tour and the waitress said “You look as if you need a Screaming Orgasm”. At the time this was the last thing on my mind...
Many people, meeting Aziraphale for the first time, formed three impressions: that he was English, that he was intelligent, and that he was gayer than a treeful of monkeys on nitrous oxide.
One day a tortoise will learn how to fly.
Just call in at the torturer on your way out. See when he can fit you in.
There isn’t a way things should be. There’s just what happens, and what we do.
Speak softly and employ a huge man with a crowbar.
What have I always believed? That on the whole, and by and large, if a man lived properly, not according to what any priests said, but according to what seemed decent and honest inside, then it would, at the end, more or less, turn out all right.