The idea of some kind of objectively constant, universal literary value is seductive. It feels real. It feels like a stone cold… — Lev Grossman Copy Share Image
It was strange to be naked in front of anybody. It was like that cold water out there in the bay: scary,… — Lev Grossman Copy Share Image
As a teenager in Brooklyn Quentin had often imagined himself engaged in martial heroics, but after this he knew, as a cold… — Lev Grossman Copy Share Image
We're wired to expect the world to be brighter and more meaningful and more obviously interesting than it actually is. And when we realize… — Lev Grossman Copy Share Image
“He was going to sign the papers and he was going to be a motherfucking magician.” — Lev Grossman Copy Share Image
“Being brave was easy when you would rather die than give up. Fatigue meant nothing when you actually wanted to suffer.” — Lev Grossman Copy Share Image
“He wasn't in a safe little story where wrongs were automatically righted; he was still in the real world, where bad bitter things happened… — Lev Grossman Copy Share Image
I love rare books. Not that I own a lot of them, mind you. You couldn't quite call me a rare-book collector. But I… — Lev Grossman Copy Share Image
By now he had learned enough to know that when he was getting annoyed at somebody else, it was usually because there was something… — Lev Grossman Copy Share Image
About as close you can get to the perfect cerebral thriller: searingly smart, ridiculously funny, and fast as hell... I defy anybody to read… — Lev Grossman Copy Share Image
“It's true," Eliot said. "Statistically, historically, and however else you want to look at it, you are almost never right. A monkey making life… — Lev Grossman Copy Share Image
“God, I hope we don’t have to use that,” was all he said out loud. “Oh, come on, Quentina. We’re not looking for trouble.… — Lev Grossman Copy Share Image
