It's just us here, just you and I. No mysteries or masks, just a world of words that come crumbling down upon the writer. All that bluster and bluff, we know it isn't real. It's Tin Man confidence, boldness in the face of fear. Style over substance.
The words are as real as the author, as real as the memories. The world is as real as we make it.
To all the words that have never been said, to all the words that never will be said, to all the things you leave behind with me when you go, let us remember them, like the things you leave behind.
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Speaking metaphorically, of course. It's a habit that's hard to give up. One puff of breath is never enough. You'll find you want to take another.
Mister Vimes
Only Human
- Samuel Vimes
- Norcross, GA, United States
- By his own account he was a skinny, balding, unshaven collection of bad habits marinated in alcohol, although these days he is better shaved and doesn't drink. Partly as a result of this latter fact, he is morose, cynical and ridiculously - and to his own embarassment - soft-hearted in certain circumstances. He is almost certainly one of Nature's policemen; it has been said of him that his soul burns to arrest the Creator of the universe for getting it wrong. He loathes kings, and hates undead and assassins. He is also unashamedly speciesist - he deeply dislikes trolls and dwarfs, but in an almost proprietyroial way, so that he has risked his life and badge to defend them merely so that he can continue to dislike them. He hates the city in the same way; it's his to hate.
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