WHAT CAN THE HARVEST HOPE FOR, IF NOT FOR THE CARE OF THE REAPER MAN?
Death appeals to Azrael.

'What is this thing, anyway?' said the Dean, inspecting the implement in his hands.
'It's called a shovel,' said the Senior Wrangler. 'I've seen the gardeners use them. You stick the sharp end in the ground. Then it gets a bit technical.'

No one was avoiding him, it was just that an apparent random Brownian motion was gently moving everyone away.
Approaching H-hour at Windle Poon's 'Going-Away' Party.

'Dock-a-loodle-fod!'
A dyslexic rooster is a sorry thing.

People have believed for hundreds of years that newts in a well mean that the water's fresh and drinkable, and in all that time never asked themselves whether the newts got out to go to the lavatory.

He'd never realized that, deep down inside, what he really wanted to do was make things go splat.
The Dean starts enjoying himself.

DROP THE SCYTHE, AND TURN AROUND SLOWLY.
Dirty Death.

Five exclamation marks, the sure sign of an insane mind.

Not matter how fast light travels it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.
So much for the theory that nothing can exceed the speed of light.

I EXPECT, he said, THAT YOU COULD MURDER A PIECE OF CHEESE?
Death chats with the Death of Rats.

On the fabled hidden continent of XXXX, somewhere near the rim, there is a lost colony of wizards who wear corks around their pointy hats and live on nothing but prawns.

'Chap with a whip got as far as the big sharp spikes last week,' said the low priest.
Life in the Temple of Offler.

'You know,' said Windle, 'it's a wonderful afterlife.'

'Have you any last words?'
YES. I DON'T WANT TO GO.
'Well. Succinct, anyway.'
Death at the wrong end of the scythe, for once.

Mrs Evadne Cake was a medium, verging on small.

"It can't be intelligent, can it?" said the Bursar.
"All it's doing is moving around slowly and eating things," said the Dean.
"Put a pointy hat on it and it'd be a faculty member," said the Archchancellor.

"Inside Every Living Person is a Dead Person Waiting to Get Out..."
Motto of the Fresh-Start Club.

"What's this one called?"
TANGO
"Can you get put in prison for it?"
I DON'T BELIEVE SO
"Amazing."
Miss Flitworth dances with Death.

"In my father's day, any Revenooer came around here prying all by himself, we used to tie weights to their feet and heave 'em into the pond."
BUT THE POND IS ONLY A FEW INCHES DEEP, MISS FLITWORTH.
"Yeah, but it was fun watching 'em find out."
One of the simple joys of rural life...

"He said that there was death and taxes, and taxes was worse, because at least death didn't happen to you every year."
Folk-wisdom.

"Why does everyone run towards a blood-curdling scream?" mumbled the Senior Wrangler. "It's contrary to all sense."
Rincewind would tend to agree -- from a rapidly-increasing distance.

It was one of the new-fangled pocket watches, with hands. They pointed to a quarter past nine. He shook it. A small hatch opened under the 12 and a very small demon poked its nose out and said, 'Knock it off, guvnor. I'm pedalling as fast as I can.'.

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