Tear Jerker / Reaper Man

• Death telling the new Death that he was fighting him because he cared about the people living on the Disc. This, of course, being the reason the Auditors of Reality fired him. Then there's Death going after the little girl whose time had run out because Miss Flitworth smacked him, Death taking Miss Flitworth to her fiancé in the afterlife, and finally Death confronting Azrael about why Deaths need to have compassion so they aren't just oblivion.
  What can the harvest hope for, if not for the care of the Reaper Man?

  I have brought you chocolates. And flowers, the kind girls like. And I have also brought a diamond to be friends with you.
• The talk with the dying Windle about why it is important to be needed by others and how it resonates in the final scene where he spares the Death of Rats (and the Death of Fleas) rather than be alone.
  And, with great relief, and general optimism, and a feeling that on the whole everything could have been much worse, Windle Poons died.
• The initial description of Miss Flitworth's farm is profoundly melancholy, speaking of a once-bustling farm now lonely and fallen on hard times.
  Picture a cool, dark room, glimpsed through the open doorway. This isn't a room that people live in a lot. It's a room for people who live outdoors but have to come inside sometimes, when it gets dark. It's a room for harnesses and dogs, a room where oilskins are hung up to dry. There's a beer barrel by the door. There are flagstones on the floor and, along the ceiling beams, hooks for bacon. There's a scrubbed table that thirty hungry men could sit down at.
  There are no men. There are no dogs. There is no beer. There is no bacon.
• His experience with exterminating rats, where taking life himself makes him feel like a murderer.
• His confusion when they're going to have a chicken for dinner.
  Death: But we feed them.
• Death killing the chicken, and how he's never killed anything, only taken life away when it was finished with.
  He opened his hand. A tiny spot of light hovered over his palm. He blew on it, gently, and it faded away.
• The entire scene where Miss Flitworth invites Bill Door to spend the evening in the parlor, a room crammed with souvenirs from her late fiancé that smells of "long, dull afternoons". Then she ends up spilling much of her backstory to him, and the former Grim Reaper is left helpless as what to say to a lonely old woman with more on her mind than she lets on...
• There's a scene which pretty much summarizes Miss Flitworth's personality, in which she talks about how after her fiancé died, she felt she was expected to spend all her time moping around in a decrepit wedding dress weeping, but instead she got on with her life. At the end of the book Death opens Miss Flitworth's chests that no-one has ever seen inside and finds it contains her old wedding veil; she still thinks about her fiancé.
  • Also: Miss Flitworth said that because you "don't waste a perfectly good feast," she still held the big wedding dinner even when her fiancé had vanished. Imagine her sitting there, not crying, at this big party when everyone's whispering the worst about her fiance... Good lord.
    • One more, when she dies at the end. She becomes 18 again, the age she was when her fiancee died. She didn't REALLY move on, just refused to mope about it. But she waited for him, until the very end. And her belief that he, too, had been faithful to her until his death was entirely true.
  • That she offers the fine material of the dress as a whetstone for Death's replacement scythe in the same scene has so many different perspectives of meaning packed into it, it only makes it worse that it barely helps, as little more than a stepping stone to the next, perfectly common thing they try.
• Reading the paragraph about the legacy of somebodies life being their true life, long after they're dead, certainly hits a different note after the passing of Pratchett himself.
  “In the Ramtop village where they dance the real Morris dance, for example, they believe that no one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away—until the clock he wound up winds down, until the wine she made has finished its ferment, until the crop they planted is harvested. The span of someone’s life, they say, is only the core of their actual existence."
• Bill Door dreaming for the first time in his existence. In the dream, he is back in his domain, with no sign that anything is out of the ordinary, ready to return to the Duty. Then he picks up a lifetimer, and when he reads the name on it he wakes up screaming, convinced for the first time of his imminent death.