I of course have told everyone who will listen of my all consuming love for Neil Gaiman and his work.
This is the kind of man whose brain you want to get in a petri dish and under a microscope if there was a way to work out why certain people think a certain way. To me he bears the mark of genius he does.
I love how clever and quirky and witty and un- assuming his writing is. He really does it for me.
And you are reading this because yesterday Nicholas Rossis asked on his Facebook status what our favourite Neil Gaiman quote was. Things started going off in my head and I had to go and look up all that I loved but kept coming back to my favourite book. So here I am sharing today some of my favourite bits from Neil Gaiman;'s illustrious book, American Gods, if only to ask:
Why have you not read this book yet?
And if you have, you of course then automatically form part of the upper echelon of the human race...seriously you do. You've got my Gaiman biased word on it. LOL
Anyway let me stop rambling.....check these out.
The boundaries of our country, sir? Why sir, on the north we are bounded by the Aurora Borealis, on the east we are bounded by the rising sun, on the south we are bounded by the procession of the Equinoxes, and on the west by the Day of Judgement.
The American Joe Miller's Jest Book
Gods die. And when they truly die they are unmourned and unremembered. Ideas are more difficult to kill than people, but they can be killed, in the end.'
'Aren't you going to show it to me? I'll show you mine,' said Shadow.
'A man's fortune is his own affair,' said Wednesday stiffly. 'I would not ask to see yours.'
'I don't know any of the Christian stuff. I'm a pagan.'
The woman behind the counter said, 'I think it's like Latin or something for "Christ has risen" maybe.'
'Really?' said Wednesday.
'Yeah, sure,' said the woman. 'Easter, just like the sun rises from the east, you know.'
'The risen son. Of course - a most logical supposition... And tell me, as a pagan, who do you worship?'
'That's right. I imagine you must have a pretty wide open field. So to whom do you set up your household altar? To whom do you bow down? To whom do you pray to at dawn and at dusk?'
'Indeed. And this female principle of yours. Does she have a name?'
'She's the goddess within us all. She doesn't need a name.'
'Ah,' said Wednesday, with a wide monkey grin, 'so do you hold mighty bacchanals in her honour? Do you drink blood wine under the full moon, while scarlet candles burn in silver candle holders? Do you step naked into the seafoam, chanting ecstactically to your nameless goddess while the waves lick at your legs, lapping your thighs like the tongues of a thousand leopards?'
'White man's beer?'
Whiskey Jack looked at the can. 'When you people finally give up and go home, you can leave us the Budweiser breweries,' he said.
'... it's not the fish you bring home from a day's fishing. It's the peace of mind.'