Terry Pratchett Quotes

Do this: hate him for me after I die. I beg you. Dying request.

You should have died when I killed you.

Fool that I am," said he,"that I did not tear out my heart the day I resolved to revenge myself".

It's very shocking, I think, for people caring for the dying to realise how unsaintly they feel, how much anger is mixed up with their grief. In fact, often I think the anger that they feel is a form of grief; it's a kind of raging against what's happening.

Guilt is perhaps the most painful companion of death.

The tortures of present death disturb him not, but the recollection of his fall, fills him with a holy sorrow.

If the other person injures you, you may forget the injury; but if you injure him you will always remember.

Some people would rather dig fresh graves than heal old wounds.

Sometimes I wish I had never pardoned that son of a bitch!

She once used me with that insolence, that in revenge I took her to pieces; sifted her, and separated her failings; I studied 'em, and got 'em by rote. The catalogue was so large, that I was not without hopes, one day or other to hate her heartily.

She was nothing but good and I was nothing but bad, but then she died, and I didn't.

Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time; as aromatic wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: its after-flavour, metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been poisoned.

Oh, I'm not afraid of death! What have I got to live for after all? I suppose you believe it's very wrong to kill a person who has injured you-even if they've taken away everything you had in the world?

By retaliating our sufferings on the heads of those we love, we get rid of a present uneasiness and incur lasting remorse. With the accomplishment of our revenge our fondness returns; so that we feel the injury we have done them, even more than they do.

Only the dead can be forgiven; But when I think of that my tongue's a stone.

An Immense hatred keeps me alive... i would live for a thousand years if i were certain of seeing the whole world croak.

Death. The certain prospect of death could sweeten every life with a precious and fragrant drop of levity- and now you strange apothecary souls have turned it into an ill-tasting drop of poison that makes the whole of life repulsive.

It seems to me a most dreadful thing to go out of the world and not leave one person behind you who is sorry you are gone,' said Anne, shuddering.

What a fool I was, not to tear my heart out on the day when I resolved to revenge myself!

I mean, who wants to live waking up... at least I don't want to live waking up everyday about revenge.

When death, the great reconciler, has come, it is never our tenderness that we repent of, but our severity.

Wretched are those who are vindictive and spiteful.

I do not bring forgiveness with me, nor forgetfulness. The only ones who can forgive are dead; the living have no right to forget.

Hurt leads to bitterness, bitterness to anger, travel too far that road and the way is lost.

In the last analysis, it is our conception of death which decides our answers to all the questions that life puts to us.