The land around Ankh-Morpork is fertile and largely given over to the cabbage fields that help to give the city its distinctive odor.The gray light of pre-dawn unrolled over the blue-green expanse and around a couple of farmers who were making an early start on the spinach harvest.They looked up, not at a sound, but at a travelling point of silence where sound ought to have been.It was a man and a woman and something like a size five man in a size twelve fur coat, all in a chariot that flickered as it moved. It bowled along the road toward Holy Wood and was soon out of sight. A minute or two later it was followed by a wheelchair. Its axle glowed red-hot. It was full of people screaming at one another. One of them was turning a handle on a box.It was so overburdened that wizards occasionally fell off and ran along after it, shouting, until they had a chance to jump on again and start screaming.Whoever was attempting to steer was not succeeding and it weaved back and forth across the road and eventually hurtled off it completely and through the side of a barn.One of the farmers nudged the other.Oi've seen this on the clicks, he said. It's always the same. They crash into a barn and they allus comes out the other side covered in squawking chickens.His companion leaned reflectively on his hoe.It'd be a sight worth seeing that, he said.Sure would.'Cos all there is in there, boy, is twenty ton of cabbage.There was a crash and the chair erupted from the barn in a shower of chickens and headed madly toward the road.The farmers looked at one another.Well, dang me, said one of them.
Terry Pratchett
we all make vows, Jimmy. And there is something very beautiful and touching and noble about wanting good impulses to be permanent and true forever, she said. Most of us stand up and vow to love, honor and cherish someone. And we truly mean it, at the time. But two or twelve or twenty years down the road, the lawyers are negotiating the property settlement. You and George didn't go back on your promises. She laughed. Lemme tell ya something, sweetface. I have been married at least four times, to four different men. She watched him chew that over for a moment before continuing, They've all been named George Edwards but, believe me, the man who is waiting for me down the hall is a whole lot different animal from the boy I married, back before there was dirt. Oh, there are continuities. He has always been fun and he has never been able to budget his time properly and - well, the rest is none of your business. But people change, he said quietly. Precisely. People change. Cultures change. Empires rise and fall. Shit. Geology changes! Every ten years or so, George and I have faced the fact that we have changed and we've had to decide if it makes sense to create a new marriage between these two new people. She flopped back against her chair. Which is why vows are such a tricky business. Because nothing stays the same forever. Okay. Okay! I am figuring something out now. She sat up straight, eyes focused somewhere outside the room and Jimmy realized that even Anne didn't have all the answers and that was either the most comforting thing he'd learned in a long time or the most discouraging. Maybe because so few of us would be able to give up something so fundamental for something so abstract, we protect ourselves from the nobility of a priest's vows by jeering at him when he can't live up to them, always and forever. She shivered and slumped suddenly, But, Jimmy! What unnatural words. Always and forever! Those aren't human words, Jim. Not even stones are always and forever.
Mary Doria Russell