Vimes felt his hand begin to move of its own accord--
And stopped. Red rage froze.
There was The Beast, all around him. And that's all it was. A beast. Useful, but still a beast. You could hold it on a chain, and make it dance, and juggle balls. It didn't think. It was dumb. What you were, what you were, was not The Beast.

Autore: Terry Pratchett