Whether or not he was in it, whether or not he could see or touch it, he’d thought there would always be a FIllory out there somewhere. He loved knowing it was there. It anchored his sense of happiness, the way a distant stockpile of gold might underwrite the value of a paper bill.

Whether or not he was in it, whether or not he could see or touch it, he’d thought there would always be a FIllory out there somewhere. He loved knowing it was there. It anchored his sense of happiness, the way a distant stockpile of gold might underwrite the value of a paper bill.

– Lev Grossman –

The Magician’s Land

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