This Book Was Written Using 100% Recycled

I Would Like Permission To Fetch A Note From My Mother, Sir' Ridcully Sighed. 'rincewind, You Once Informed Me, To My Everlasting Puzzlement, That You Never Knew Your Mother Because She Ran Away Before You Were Born. Distinctly Remember Writing It Down In My Diary. Would You Like Another Try?' 'permission To Go And Find My Mother?'

But…but You Can’t Treat Religion As A Sort Of Buffet, Can You? I Mean, You Can’t Say Yes Please, I’ll Have Some Of The Celestial Paradise And A Helping Of The Divine Plan But Go Easy On The Kneeling And None Of The Prohibition Of Images, They Give Me Wind. Its Table D´hôte Or Nothing, Otherwise…well, It Would Be Silly.

Particles Of Raw Inspiration Sleet Through The Universe All The Time. Every Once In A While One Of Them Hits A Receptive Mind, Which Then Invents Dna Or The Flute Sonata Form Or A Way Of Making Light Bulbs Wear Out In Half The Time. But Most Of Them Miss. Most People Go Through Their Lives Without Being Hit By Even One.

Gods Prefer Simple, Vicious Games, Where You Do Not Achieve Transcendence But Go Straight To Oblivion; A Key To The Understanding Of All Religion Is That A God's Idea Of Amusement Is Snakes And Ladders With Greased Rungs.

You Have To Start Out Learning To Believe The Little Lies. "so We Can Believe The Big Ones?" Yes. Justice, Mercy, Duty. That Sort Of Thing.