Don't Stick Your Nose Where

If You Kept Changing The Way People Saw The World, You Ended Up Changing The Way You Saw Yourself.

That's What's So Stupid About The Whole Magic Thing, You Know. You Spend Twenty Years Learning The Spell That Makes Nude Virgins Appear In Your Bedroom, And Then You're So Poisoned By Quicksilver Fumes And Half-blind From Reading Old Grimoires That You Can't Remember What Happens Next.

What's The Good Of Having Mastery Over Cosmic Balance And Knowing The Secrets Of Fate If You Can't Blow Something Up?

Consider The Situation. There You Are, Forehead Like A Set Of Balconies, Worrying About The Long-term Effects Of All This New 'fire' Stuff On The Environment, You're Being Chased And Eaten By Most Of The Planet's Large Animals, And Suddenly Tiny Versions Of One Of The Worst Of Them Wanders Into The Cave And Starts To Purr.

Death Was Standing Behind A Lectern, Poring Over A Map. He Looked At Mort As If He Wasn’t Entirely There. You Haven't Heard Of The Bayof Mante, Have You? He Said. “no, Sir,” Said Mort. Famous Shipwreck There. “was There?” There Will Be, Said Death, If I Can Find The Damn Place.