Purple light passed over the paper, but nothing happened. "next!" amy said. she was sure the man in black was going to burst in on them any second. "whoa!" dan said. amy gripped his arm. "you found it?" "no, but look! this whole essay - 'to the royal academy.' he wrote a whole essay on farts!" dan grinned with delight. "he's proposing a scientific study on different fart smells. you're right, amy. this guy was a genius!
Listen, god love everything you love - and a mess of stuff you don't. But more than anything else, god love admiration. You saying god vain? I ast. Naw, she say. Not vain, just wanting to share a good thing. I think it pisses god off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it. What it do when it pissed off? I ast. Oh, it make something else. People think pleasing god is all god care about. But any fool living in the world can see it always trying to please us back.
At the morgue, people were so desensitized that they would eat lunch in the glass walled room adjacent to the autopsy room. A viewing room. Because it had the best air conditioning in the building. So they would eat in there and maybe somebody would come in who had been found after being dead for three days and they would say: that is the exact purple i want for those drapes in the study. They didn't miss a beat. They could eat through anything.
I named my camel katrina. she was a natural disaster. she slobbered everywhere and seemed to think the purple streak in my hair was some kind of exotic fruit. she was obsessed with trying to eat my head. i named walt's camel hindenburg. he was almost as large as a zeppelin and definitely as full of gas.
It was octarine, the colour of magic. it was alive and glowing and vibrant and it was the undisputed pigment of the imagination, because wherever it appeared it was a sign that mere matter was a servant of the powers of the magical mind. it was enchantment itself. but rincewind always thought it looked a sort of greenish-purple.