You Didn’t Get The Quest You Wanted,

We Have Lived Too Long. The Great Days Are Past.

That’s What Death Did, It Treated You Like A Child, Like Everything You Had Ever Thought And Done And Cared About Was Just A Child’s Game, To Be Crumpled Up And Thrown Away When It Was Over. It Didn’t Matter. Death Didn’t Respect You. Death Thought You Were Bullshit, And It Wanted To Make Sure You Knew It.

Quentin Had An Obsolete Sailing Ship That Had Been Raised From The Dead. He Had Psychotically Effective Swordsman And An Enigmatic Witch-queen. It Wasn't The Fellowship Of The Ring, But Then Again He Wasn't Trying To Save The World From Sauron, He Was Trying To Perform A Tax Audit On A Bunch Of Hick Islanders.

The Truth Doesn't Always Make A Good Story, Does It?

When The Oldest Chatwin, Melancholy Martin, Opens The Cabinet Of The Grandfather Clock That Stands In A Dark, Narrow Back Hallway In His Aunt’s House And Slip Through Into Fillory...it’s Like He’s Opening The Covers Of A Book, But A Book That Did What Books Always Promised To Do And Never Ac Tually Quite Did: Get You Out, Really Out, Of Where You Were And Into Something Better.