May 24, 2024
Rumor is information distilled so finely that it can filter through anything. It does not need doors and windows--sometimes it doesn't even need people. It can exist free and wild, running from ear to ear without ever touching lips.
It had escaped already. From the high window of the Patrician's bedroom, Sam Vimes could see people drifting towards the palace. There wasn't a mob--there wasn't even what you might call a crowd--but the Brownian motion of the streets was bouncing more and more people in his direction.
Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay