Quentin’s conversations with his parents were so circular and self-defeating, they sounded like experimental theater. - Lev Grossman

She was too tired to feel anything more, she wanted a book to do to her what books did: take away the world, slide it aside for a little bit, and let her please, please just be somewhere and somebody else.

Quinton didn’t know exactly how to put everything that was ridiculous about that idea in a single sentence.

This was real, human sex, and it was so much better just because they weren’t animals—because they were civilized and prudish and self-conscious humans who transformed into sweaty, lustful, naked beasts, not through magic but because that’s who on some level they really were all along.