Anyway, I just finished Terry Pratchett's Feet of Clay and found it fascinating for no reason at all.
This is Ankh-Morpork, you know. We’ve got extra pronouns here.”
'You really intend to prefer charges?'
'I'd prefer violence,' said Vimes loudly. 'Charges is what I'm going to have to settle for.'
'Many fine old manuscripts in that place, I believe. Without price, I'm told.'
'Yes, sir. Certainly worthless, sir.'
'Is it possible you misunderstood what I just said, Commander?' 'Could be, sir.'
'The provenances of many splendid old families went up in smoke, Commander. Of course, the Heralds will do what they can, and the families themselves keep records but frankly, I understand, it's all going to be patchwork and guesswork. Extremely embarrassing. Are you smiling, Commander?'
'It was probably a trick of the light, sir.'
'Commander, I always used to consider that you had a definite anti-authoritarian streak in you.'
'Sir?'
'It seems that you have managed to retain this even though you are authority.'
'Sir?'
'That's practically Zen.'
'Did you really punch the president of the Assassins' Guild?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Why?'
'Didn't have a dagger, sir.'
'You can be any sex you like provided you act male.'
This is it, he thought. This is where we’ve filled ourselves up with so many questions that they’re starting to overflow and become answers.
'That's blasphemy,' said the vampire. He gasped as Vimes shot him a glance like sunlight.
'That's what people say when the voiceless speak.'
That's how politics works in this city. It's a game of chess. Who cares if a few pawns die? I'll know. And I'll be the only one who knows, deep down.
'However,' he said, 'in order to keep the peace, the golem will have to be destroyed.'
'No, sir.' '
'Allow me to repeat my instruction.'
'No, sir.'
'I'm sure I just gave you an order, Commander. I distinctly felt my lips move.'
'No, sir. He's alive, sir.'
'He's just made of clay, Vimes.'
'Aren't we all, sir? According to them pamphlets Constable Visit keeps handing out. Anyway, he thinks he's alive, and that's good enough for me.'
No more kings. Vimes had difficulty in articulating why this should be so, why the concept resonated in his very bones. After all, a good many of the patricians had been as bad as any king. But they were...sort of...bad on equal terms. What set Vimes's teeth on edge was the idea that kings were a different kind of human being. A higher lifeform.
'The big trouble,' he added, 'is that everyone wants someone else to read their minds for them and then make the world work properly.'
