How's it going?" "Pretty well," Quentin said. "I'm not dead. - Lev Grossman

He had reached the outer limits of what Fun, capital F, could do for him. The cost was way too high, the returns pitifully inadequate. His mind was dimly awakening, too late, to other things that were as important, or even more so.

Anyway, the mood he was in, Quentin was willing to take any position on any subject with anybody if it meant he could pick a fight.

Some tiny sane part of him knew he was out of control, but that wasn’t the part of him that had its hands on the wheel.