Read this five or six times, now, and hadn't realized I hadn't put it in Goodreads until now.
It's the seventh Watch book in the Discworld; I think it probably requires a little bit of background. This is a shame, since it's a book I love enough I would like to be able to recommend that people read it with as little wait as possible.
It's about fear, and the problems inherent in trying to manage people, and secret police, and what you are and are not willing to give up for the right thing. History and revolutions and how many of the things you want will be there in the morning--from Truth, Justice, and Freedom, all the way down to a hard-boiled egg. All the things you didn't know soon enough, and all the things you know now that it was easier when you didn't know.
And cigar cases, and spoons, and the sprigs of lilac on the Glorious Twenty-Fifth of May.
It's a very sad book, and a very happy book, and I would say the protagonist is a shining example of nobility in the face of crushing odds except that I think calling Sam Vimes noble
is the sort of thing that gets lumped in with gilt armour and a plume allowance. But he is a good man. This is too rare, and too quiet, and very fine.
It's a lovely book. One of my favourites.