Wyrd Sisters

Wyrd Sisters: A Novel of Discworld - Terry Pratchett

As the cauldron bubbled an eldritch voice shrieked: ‘When shall we three meet again?’ There was a pause. Finally another voice said, in far more ordinary tones: ‘Well, I can do next Tuesday.’


I just realised that I never finished writing a review for this one even though I absolutely loved it. Wyrd Sisters is the second installment of the Witches sub-series, and is Pratchett's version of what would happen if Hamlet and Macbeth had been set in the Discworld universe - which may just give you an idea of the plot, but will not spoil anything because this is a Discworld novel and anything is possible. 

 

Instead of writing a proper review, which I really can't get together because there are too many aspects of awesomeness about this book, I'm going to present a few of my favourite quotes (in no particular order):

 

‘And until then I have to haunt this place.’ King Verence stared around at the draughty battlements. ‘All alone, I suppose. Won’t anyone be able to see me?’

OH, THE PSYCHICALLY INCLINED. CLOSE RELATIVES. AND CATS, OF COURSE.

‘I hate cats.’

Death’s face became a little stiffer, if that were possible. The blue glow in his eye sockets flickered red for an instant. I SEE, he said. The tone suggested that death was too good for cat-haters.

 

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Lightning stabbed at the earth erratically, like an inefficient assassin.

 

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However, in Bad Ass a cockerel laid an egg and had to put up with some very embarrassing personal questions.

 

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The duke had a mind that ticked like a clock and, like a clock, it regularly went cuckoo.

 

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Demons were like genies or philosophy professors – if you didn’t word things exactly right, they delighted in giving you absolutely accurate and completely misleading answers.

 

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‘The door’s locked,’ said the Fool. ‘There’s all sorts of noises, but the door’s locked.’ ‘Well, it’s a dungeon, isn’t it?’

‘They’re not supposed to lock from the inside!’

 

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It was destined to be the most impressive kiss in the history of foreplay.

 

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‘Ah,’ said Nanny. She took the girl’s arm. ‘The thing is,’ she explained, ‘as you progress in the Craft, you’ll learn there is another rule. Esme’s obeyed it all her life.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘When you break rules, break ‘em good and hard,’ said Nanny, and grinned a set of gums that were more menacing than teeth.