That old monk had said that whatever happens, stays happened. And now Vimes had a mental picture of Sybil and Carrot and Detritus and all the rest of them, frozen in a moment that’d never have a next moment.
He wanted to go home. He wanted it so much that he trembled at the thought. But if the price of that was selling good men to the night, if the price was filling those graves, if the price was not fighting with every trick he knew … then it was too high.
It wasn’t a decision that he was making, he knew. It was happening far below the areas of the brain that made decisions. It was something built in. There was no universe, anywhere, where a Sam Vimes would give in on this, because if he did then he wouldn’t be Sam Vimes any more.
The writing stayed on the silver but it was blurred now because of the tears welling up. They were tears of anger, mostly at himself. There was not a thing that he could do. He hadn’t bought a ticket and he hadn’t wanted to come, but now he was on the ride and couldn’t get off until the end.
What else had the old monk said? History finds a way? Well, it was going to have to come up with something good, because it was up against Sam Vimes now.
His Grace, His Excellency, The Duke of Ankh; Commander Sir Samuel Vimes has a Crowning Moment of Awesome.
Night Watch, Terry Pratchett
this was just maybe flat out my favorite part of this review because hi, true
2: some fungi are only edible once Terry Pratchett (via bableman)