You start at the stupid end of the book, and if you're lucky you finish at the smart end.

So India’s problem turns out to be the world’s problem. What happened in India has happened in God’s name. The problem’s name is God.

To see things plainly, you have to cross a frontier.

He knew what he knew: that the real world was full of magic, so magical worlds could easily be real.

I didn't want to become some embittered old hack getting his revenge for the rest of my life. And I didn't want to become some scared creature cowering in a corner. I remember telling myself not to carry the hatred around, although I know where it is. I have it in a trunk in storage.

India is my kid sister.

A book is a product of a pact with the Devil that inverts the Faustian contract, he'd told Allie. Dr Faustus sacrificed eternity in return for two dozen years of power; the writer agrees to the ruination of his life, and gains (but only if he's lucky) maybe not eternity, but posterity, at least. Either way (this was Jumpy's point) it's the Devil who wins.