I IS PROBLY DEAD - A Discworld Blog

“Haven’t been to Omnia for, oh, must be seven hundred years,” said Lu-Tze. “Dry place. Shouldn’t think there’s a ton of good soil in the whole country, either.”

“Off you go, then,” said the Abbot.

“I shall take my mountains,” said Lu-Tze, “the climate will be good for them.”

And he also took his broom and his sleeping mat. The History Monks don’t go in for possessions, they find most things wear out in a century or two. - Terry Pratchett, Small Gods

(Photo by Gregory Hayes. Image description: a sepia photograph of an Asian man from Yushu, China. His face is leathery and lined and he has a scraggly beard. The light glints off his shallow cheekbone and nose. He looks tired but friendly.)

He heard Om, slightly peevish, say: “People’ve got to believe in something. Might as well be gods. What else is there?” Brutha laughed. “You know,” he said, “I don’t think I believe in anything any more.” “Except me!” “Oh, I know you exist,” said Brutha. He felt Om relax a little. “There’s something about tortoises. Tortoises I can believe in. They seem to have a lot of existence in one place. It’s gods in general I’m having difficulty with.” “Look, if people stop believing in gods, they’ll believe in anything,” said Om. “They’ll believe in young Urn’s steam ball. Anything at all.” “Hmm.” - Terry Pratchett, Small Gods

(Credit: sculpture by Ellen Woodbury. Image Description: a carving of a desert tortoise in red travertine stone)

Brutha had never heard about the art of bonsai and how it was applied to mountains.

“They’re...very nice,” he said uncertainly.

Nod, smile, pick up a small rock, smile, urge, urge.

“Oh, I really couldn’t take-”

Urge, urge. Grin, nod.

Brutha took the tiny mountain. It had a strange, unreal heaviness - to his hand it felt like a pound or so, but in his head it weighed thousands of very, very small tons. - Terry Pratchett, Small Gods

(Photo: Terry Allen. Description: A cluster of tiny mountains on a stone dish in the Zhu Family Garden in Jianshui Ancient Town, Yunnan Province, China. Miniature bonsai trees grow on the mountains. Behind them, streaks of light on a plaster wall give the illusion of clouds.)

“I feel a lot better now, “ said the tortoise. “Better than I have for months.”

“Months?” said Brutha. “How long have you been...ill?”

The tortoise put its foot on a leaf.

“What day is it?” it said.

“Tenth of Grune,” said Brutha.

“Yes? What year?”

“Er...Notional Serpent...what do you mean, what year?”

“Then...three years,” said the tortoise. “This is good lettuce. And it’s me saying it. You don’t get lettuce up in the hills. A bit of plantain, a thorn bush or two. Let there be another leaf.”

Brutha pulled one off the nearest plant. And lo, he thought, there was another leaf. -Terry Pratchett, Small Gods

(Description: an extremely tiny tortoise, its head smaller than a thumbnail, opens its mouth to eat a small leaf being offered to it from someone’s hand.)

The captain leaned closer.

“The Turtle Moves!” he hissed and darted away. -Small Gods, Terry Pratchett

(Description: a photo of a square silver ring. The middle of the ring is a blue background with a white simplistic drawing of a turtle and some stars. Above the turtle it says ‘The Turtles Moves...’.)