Two types of people laugh at the law: those that break it and those that make it.

The roof of the High Energy Magic building was a maze of abandoned equipment and Carrot was moving along behind the raised platform that the huge bronze spheres known throughout the city as The Wizards' Balls, which discharged surplus magic if - or more usually when - experiments in the hall below fouled up.

"Thanks all the same. We know your heart is in the right place --"
"They are in the right places, sir," said Igor, reproachfully.

Ridcully gave him the slow blank stare used by those with acute uptake-grasping deficiency.

It meant he looked to Authority for orders and obeyed then, whereas Vimes found it better to look to Authority for orders and then filter those orders through a fine mesh of common sense, adding a generous scoop of creative misunderstanding and maybe even incipient deafness if circumstances demanded, because Authority rarely descended to street level.

"I'm not a criminal madman," said Vimes. He wondered why he said it, and then wondered who he was trying to reassure.
"Never mind, you'll soon fit in," said Lawn.

"I don't do anything illegal, you know."
"Then you've got nothing to fear," said Vimes.
"Really? That proves you're not from round here," said Lawn.

"Well, I trained in Klatch. They have some novel ideas about medicine over there. They think it's a good idea to get patients better, for one thing."
Doctor Lawn is not your average Ankh-Morpork sawbones...

In the same way that ancient forests became coal, ancient swaths of natural sugar can become, under the pressure of millennia, what in various parts of the Disc is known as hokey-pokey, pig treacle or rock molasses. But much boiling and purification was necessary to create the thick golden syrup that was the city dweller's honey, and these days Ankh-Morpork's supplies come from the more accessible toffee beds near Quirm.

"They're crying out for good men in the Day Watch, but if you don't stand too close to the light you might pass."
Vimes gives some career advice to ex-Sgt Quirke.

Quirke looked around for immoral support and found none.

"This is Miss Battye," said Rosie, from the bench inside the wagon. "She's a seamstress."
"Well, I assumed she --"
"A seamstress, I said," said Miss Palm. "With needles and thread. Also specialises in crochet."
"Er, is that a kind of extra --"
A situation fraught with misunderstanding.

"Everyone says it's going to be Snapcase at the palace. He listens to the people."
"Yeah, right," said Vimes. And I listen to the thunder. But I don't do anything about it.

"Yeah, all right, but everyone knows they torture people," mumbled Sam.
"Do they?" said Vimes. "Then why doesn't anyone do anything about it?"
"'cos they torture people."
... well, fair enough ...

"No, I meant that you doctors aren't supposed to hurt people, are you?"
"Only in the course of normal incompetence."
Doctor Lawn apparently doesn't think a lot of his 'colleagues'...

Criminals don't obey the law. It's more or less a requirement for the job.

"Mums are mums. They don't like to see men managing by themselves, in case that sort of thing catches on."

"He is a complication. You may think it best if he ... ceased to complicate."
Even as a young man, Havelock Vetinari had his own way of putting things.

"Can I help you, ma'am," he said.
"What do you intend to do about us being murdered in our beds?" she demanded.
"Well, it's not four o'clock yet, ma'am, but if you'll let me know when you want to retire -- "
So, what was Minnie Bannister doing in Ankh-Morpork, anyway.

"And are your men sober and clean-living?" the woman demanded.
"Whenever no alternative presents itself, ma'am," said Vimes.

If you were an Assassin, being killed in the pursuit of your craft was all part of the job, albeit the last part.

"I fear you have the advantage of me, madam ..." he murmured.
"I certainly expect so!" said Madam, giving him such a radiant smile that he didn't analyse her actual words.
A battle of wits between Lord Selachii and any member of the Vetinari family is always going to be a rather uneven contest.

The Rust family had produced great soldiers, by the undemanding standards of 'Deduct your own casualties from those of the enemy, and if the answer is a positive number, it was a glorious victory' school of applied warfare.

"He might well be able to help us with our enquiries into a number of unsolved crimes."
"Such as?" said Carcer.
"Dunno," said Vimes. "Depends on what we've got."

He liked fighting big men on the basis that there was more of them to bite.
Two Grins was a man best not upset.

"Ave! Bossa nova, similis bossa seneca!"
Roughly translated: Here comes the new boss, same as the old boss.

"What did I tell you about Mister Safety Catch?" said Vimes weakly.
"When Mister Safety Catch Is Not On, Mister Crossbow Is Not Your Friend," recited Detritus, saluting.

It takes a thousand steps to get to the top of a mountain but one little hop'll take you all the way back to the bottom.
One of the universal truths...

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