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The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents: (Discworld Novel 28)

This book is the twenty-eighth novel in the Discworld series, known for its unique blend of satire, humor, and magical elements. It features Maurice, a young boy with a talent for communicating with animals, and his band of intelligent rodents. Together, they embark on a quest to protect the world from a dangerous wizard while navigating the whimsical and often absurd landscape of the Discworld. more

Author

Terry Pratchett
Terry Pratchett

Terry Pratchett was a British author renowned for his fantasy novel series, 'Discworld'. His works are appreciated for their unique humor and profound philosophical insights. Pratchett's contributions to literature extend beyond fantasy, encompassing science fiction, humor, and children's literature. more

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“So rainbow-sided, touch'd with miseries, She seem'd, at once, some penanced lady elf, Some demon's mistress, or the demon's self.”

“The snow lay thin and apologetic over the world. That wide grey sweep was the lawn, with the straggling trees of the orchard still dark beyond; the white squares were the roofs of the garage, the old barn, the rabbit hutches, the chicken coops. Further back there were only the flat fields of Dawson's farm, dimly white-striped. All the broad sky was grey, full of more snow that refused to fall. There was no colour anywhere.”

“But as the scissors snip-snapped through her hair and the razor shaved the rest, she realized with a sudden awful panic that she could no longer recall anything from the past. I cannot remember, she whispered to herself. I cannot remember. She's been shorn of memory as brutally as she'd been shorn of her hair, without permission, without reason... Gone, all gone, she thought again wildly, no longer even sure what was gone, what she was mourning.”

“He didn't know of course. Not really. And yet that was what he said, and I was soothed to hear it. For I knew what he meant. We all have our sorrows, and although the exact delineaments, weight, and dimensions of grief are different for everyone, the color of grief is common to us all. "I know," he said, because he was human, and therefore, in a way, he did.”

“Heads in the Women's Ward On pillow after pillow lies The wild white hair and staring eyes; Jaws stand open; necks are stretched With every tendon sharply sketched; A bearded mouth talks silently To someone no one else can see. Sixty years ago they smiled At lover, husband, first-born child. Smiles are for youth. For old age come Death's terror and delirium.”