From The Colour of Magic pg 52
"No spells are much good. It takes three months to commit even a simple one to to memory, and then once you've used it, pouf! it's gone. That's what's so stupid about the whole magic thing, you know. You spend twenty years learning the spell that makes nude virgins appear in your bedroom, and then you're so poisoned by quicksilver fumes and half-blind from reading old grimoires that you can't remember what happens next."
And Pratchett also puts in a type of "trope" that he will use in several other books:
It held biscuits that turned out to be as hard as diamond-wood.
"loody 'ell," he muttered, nursing his teeth.
"Captain Eightpanther's Traveller's Digestives, them," said the imp from the doorway to his box. "Saved many a life at sea, they have."
"Oh, sure. Do you use them as a raft, or just throw them to the sharks and sort of watch them sink?"
(In future books, it will be the dwarves who have this type of daily snack - a joke on the Cramm in JRR Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy.)
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