He wasn't surprised. He was used to this anticlimactic feeling, where by the time you've done all the work to get something you don't even want it anymore.

There is really no end to life's little humiliations.

Stop looking for the next secret door that is going to lead you to your real life. Stop waiting. This is it: there's nothing else.

Everybody wanted to be the hero of their own story. Nobody wanted to be comic relief.

In a way fighting was just like using magic. You said the words, and they altered the universe. By merely speaking you could create damage and pain, cause tears to fall, drive people away, make yourself feel better, make your life worse.

You don’t learn about yourself by being alone, you learn about yourself from other people.

It didn’t matter where you were, if you were in a room full of books you were at least halfway home.