No enemies had ever taken Ankh-Morpork. Well technically they had, quite often; the city welcomed free-spending barbarian invaders, but somehow the puzzled raiders found, after a few days, that they didn't own their horses any more, and within a couple of months they were just another minority group with its own graffiti and food shops.
"These people were not only cheering, they were throwing flowers and hats. The hats were made of stone, but the thought was there."
-"So we're surrounded by absolutely nothing. There's a word for it. It's
what you get when there's nothing left and everything's been used up."
- "Yes. I think it's called the bill."
The librarian was, ex officio, a member of the college council. No-one had been able to find any rule about orang-utans being barred, although they had surreptiously looked very hard for one.
There had been some desultory talk about putting up a statue to Rincewind but, by the curious alchemy that tends to apply in these sensitive issues, this quickly became a plaque, then a note on the Roll of Honour, and finally a motion of censure for being improperly dressed.
The sergeant put on the poker face which has been handed down from NCO to NCO ever since one proto-amphibian told another, lower ranking proto-amphibian to muster a squad of newts and Take That Beach.
