Terry Pratchett passes away at 66

Rip...

He will be sorely missed and his view on reality made many a day a more enjoyable experience.
 
Aw ****. RIP Sir Terry. The world has lost a great man.

I still remember the first day I picked up one of his books - Pyramids. I read it one sitting, went back to the library before closing and took out 4 more.
 
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He was suffering from a very specialized form of Alzheimers that was affecting his visual cortex.
He could still see, but not recognize things. Imagine turning around and looking at your desk, and not being able to distinguish between your coffee cup and your laptop.
 
Mister 44 said:
RIP you wonderful, magical man.

The last three tweets from his twitter account couldn't have been more apt or sadder:

First tweet:

AT LAST, SIR TERRY, WE MUST WALK TOGETHER.

Second tweet:

Terry took Death’s arm and followed him through the doors and on to the black desert under the endless night.

Third tweet:

The End.

http://www.channel24.co.za/News/International/This-is-how-Terry-Pratchetts-death-was-announced-on-his-Twitter-account-20150312
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Fck. That set me off. :'(
 
Not ashamed to admit, I actually cried reading the tweets. The world has lost something special today. There were so many stories still to be told...
 
'I would have preferred the Death of Rats actually.'
'I KNOW. BUT THE CAT WAS A BIT OF A BOTHER...'
'Ah. I understand. Now - are you sure Mustard can't come to the other side?'
'YES. MUSTARD IS FROM... SOMEWHERE ELSE. BUT GOOD BEER DOES COME OVER.'
'And Brandy?'
'JUST FOR YOU TERRY. JUST FOR YOU.'
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:cry:
 
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I just had to call my 80 year old mother and tell her that her favourite author passed away.
She's actually handling it better than I am.
 
The sun goes down upon the Ankh,
And slowly, softly fades -
Across the Drum; the Royal Bank;
The River-Gate; the Shades.

A stony circle's closed to elves;
And here, where lines are blurred,
Between the stacks of books on shelves,
A quiet 'Ook' is heard.

A copper steps the city-street
On paths he's often passed;
The final march; the final beat;
The time to rest at last.

He gives his badge a final shine,
And sadly shakes his head -
While Granny lies beneath a sign
That says: 'I aten't dead.'

The Luggage shifts in sleep and dreams;
It's now. The time's at hand.
For where it's always night, it seems,
A timer clears of sand.

And so it is that Death arrives,
When all the time has gone...
But dreams endure, and hope survives,
And Discworld carries on.
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Ok. I just lost it after reading this on Reddit
 
RIP.

Time to start with Colour of Magic and read them all again. Again.
 
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