reading the new book slowly on chapter 9 now, but so far my favorite parts are :
Spoiler:
With about ten miles to go, near the trunk of Yggdrasil but still miles away from the root leading to Jötunheim, my acute case of Smug turned to a gibbering case of Oh, Shit! I believe that’s a bona fide psychological term; if it isn’t, it should be.
I present my facts to a candid world: When a person steals anything from anyone and runs away, the first thing they say when they realize they’re being chased is “Oh, shit!” in whatever language they spoke as a child. It’s really not possible to say anything else at that point. Some Britons cling to long-standing tradition and say “Oh, bugger!” first, but once they confirm that they are, in fact, being chased, they invariably correct course and join the rest of humanity in saying “Shit!”
and
Spoiler:
“I cannot promise you, Oberon,” I said, regret tingeing my voice, and I could tell he was disappointed. “But, look, it is good to have a dream so long as you do not let it gnaw at the substance of your present. I have seen men consumed by their dreams, and it is a sour business. If you cling too tightly to a dream—a poodle bitch or a personal sausage chef or whatever—then you miss the felicity of your heart beating and the smell of the grass growing and the sounds lizards make when you run through the neighborhood with your friend. Your dream should be like a favorite old bone that you savor and cherish and chew upon gently. Then, rather than stealing from you a wasted sigh or the life of an idle hour, it nourishes you, and you become strangely contented by nostalgia for a possible future, so juicy with possibility and redolent of sautéed garlic and decadent slabs of bacon that you feel full when you’ve eaten nothing. And then, one fine day when the sun smiles upon your snout, when the time is right, you bite down hard. The dream is yours. And then you chew on the next one.”
and