Når ei bok plutselig beskriver seg selv:

   The quest was drawing to a close. Just as well. Nothing worse, as far as he was concerned, than those legends of old when the stalwart, noble adventurers simply went on and on, through one absurd episode after another, with each one serving some arcane function for at least one of the wide-eyed fools, as befitted the shining serrated back of morality that ran the length of the story, from head to tip of that long, sinuous tail. Legends that bite. Yes, they all do. That´s the point of them.   But not this one, not this glorious quest of ours. No thunderous message driving home like a spike of lightning between the eyes. No tumbling cascade of fraught scenes ascending like some damned stairs to the magical tower perched on the mountain´s summit, where all truths were forged into the simple contest of hero against villain.
   Look at us! What heroes? We´re all villains, and that tower doesn´t even exist. Yet.

side 534, Steven Erikson - Reaper´s gale (Malazan Books of the Fallen - Book Seven)