A Quote by Terry Pratchett

What do you call those things at the bottom of rivers? Frogs? Stones? Unsuccessful gangsters? — © Terry Pratchett
What do you call those things at the bottom of rivers? Frogs? Stones? Unsuccessful gangsters?
Though boys throw stones at frogs in sport, the frogs do not die in sport, but in earnest.
Many successful people are no more talented than unsuccessful people. The difference between them lies in the old axiom that successful people do those things that unsuccessful people don't like to do.
Those women with collagen lips just look like frogs - 'muffin mouths,' I call them. There's not a line on their brows, and all the emotion gone from their faces, like all those actresses in 'Desperate Housewives.'
As my mother once said: The boys throw stones at the frog in jest. But the frogs die in earnest.
I suppose frogs pay no attention to being frogs. They take it for granted. What interests a frog are differences among frogs. From our point of view they are more or less the same, from their point of view they are all radically different.
There are a lot of signs. One of the things that makes me most nervous is the disappearance of the frogs. They're going downhill all over the planet. Frogs are susceptible to all kinds of problems, because they require water to breed and their skin is very porous. Their condition is nerve racking.
Nature is my church. The wind in the trees and the bugs and the frogs. All those things are comfort to me.
There are two kinds of women: those who marry princes and those who marry frogs. The frogs never become princes, but it is an acknowledged fact that a prince may very well, in the course of an ordinary marrige, gradually, at first almost imperceptibly, turn into a frog. Happy the woman who after twenty-five years still wakes up beside the prince she fell in love with.
In fairy tales, the princesses kiss the frogs, and the frogs become princes. In real life, the pricesses kiss princes, and the princes turn into frogs.
There are a lot of things that we could do to minimize what we're doing, but we're not getting back those frogs that I saw that no longer exist.
I knew so many gangsters, and I call on that experience with them for characters.
The boys throw rocks at the frogs in jest. But the frogs die in earnest.
It is true that the top quintile is getting richer while the bottom is getting poorer, but the bottom is not the same people. There is, fortunately, a constant churning at the bottom as new immigrants move in and those who used to be on the bottom begin their long, thrilling upward climb to the American dream.
I'd like to do a number of films. Westerns. Genre pieces. Maybe another film about Italian Americans where they're not gangsters, just to prove that not all Italians are gangsters.
Three million frogs' legs are served in Paris - daily. Nobody knows what became of the rest of the frogs.
Stones and bones; snow and frost; seeds and beans and polliwogs. Paths and twigs, assorted kisses, We all know who Daddy misses! His two little frogs of girls, that’s who. They know where they are, do you, do you?
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