Location 375:

“There could be some porridge to follow,” he said, and winked, apparently to include Mort in the world porridge conspiracy.



Location 408:

Some jobs offer increments. This one offered—well, quite the reverse, but at least it was in the warm and fairly easy to get the hang of.



Location 413:

The horse watched him from its stall, occasionally trying to eat his hair in a friendly sort of way.



Location 444:

THAT’S UP TO FATE, said Death, turning to the bookcase behind him and pulling out a heavy gazetteer. THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT. WHAT IS THAT SMELL? “Me,” said Mort, simply. AH. THE STABLES. Death paused, his hand on the spine of the book. AND WHY DO YOU THINK I DIRECTED YOU TO THE STABLES? THINK CAREFULLY, NOW. Mort hesitated. He had been thinking carefully, in between counting wheelbarrows. He’d wondered if it had been to coordinate his hand and eye, or teach him the habit of obedience, or bring home to him the importance, on the human scale, of small tasks, or make him realize that even great men must start at the bottom. None of these explanations seemed exactly right. “I think . . .” he began. YES? “Well, I think it was because you were up to your knees in horseshit, to tell you the truth.” Death looked at him for a long time. Mort shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. ABSOLUTELY CORRECT, snapped Death. CLARITY OF THOUGHT. REALISTIC APPROACH. VERY IMPORTANT IN A JOB LIKE OURS.



Location 457:

Death gave Mort the look he was coming to be familiar with. It started off as blank surprise, flickered briefly towards annoyance, called in for a drink at recognition and settled finally on vague forbearance.



Location 483:

“What’d he do it all for?” he said. Albert grunted. “Do you know what happens to lads who ask too many questions?” Mort thought for a moment. “No,” he said eventually, “what?” There was silence. Then Albert straightened up and said, “Damned if I know. Probably they get answers, and serve ’em right.”



Location 569:

THAT’S MORTALS FOR YOU, Death continued. THEY’VE ONLY GOT A FEW YEARS IN THIS WORLD AND THEY SPEND THEM ALL IN MAKING THINGS COMPLICATED FOR THEMSELVES. FASCINATING. HAVE A GHERKIN.



Location 722:

Mort tapped the stallholder in the small of the back. “Can you see me?” he demanded. The stallholder squinted critically at him. “I reckon so,” he said, “or someone very much like you.”



Location 747:

It is probably already apparent that The Shades was not the sort of place to have inhabitants. It had denizens.



Location 754:

Three men had appeared behind him, as though extruded from the stonework. They had the heavy, stolid look of those thugs whose appearance in any narrative means that it’s time for the hero to be menaced a bit, although not too much, because it’s also obvious that they’re going to be horribly surprised.



Location 1062:

It’ll take Mort several minutes to arrive. A row of dots would fill in the time nicely, but the reader will already be noticing the strange shape of the temple—curled like a great white ammonite at the end of the valley—and will probably want an explanation.



Location 1487:

“Has he?” said Mort gloomily. He’d been wrong, there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and it was a flamethrower.