Book: American gods. Page 2

Information and knowledge - the currency that never goes out of fashion.

... old, but happy, face of a man who had drank the vinegar of life and found that it was, for the most part, whisky and moreover good.

Literature allows us to enter into other worlds, other minds and look at everything with different eyes. In stories we don't die on time having time to stop, or die, but only for the other person, but in reality remain intact and just turn the page or close the book: and life goes on. Life, the same as the other, and ― unlike any other.

Not good to be to ask about someone's health. May think that you are looking for clients.

Here it is - the eternal folly of man. Chase after sweet flesh, without realizing that this is nothing more than the color, packaging to the bones. Food for the worms. And at night you RUB against worm food. No one wanted to offend.

His job - to kick the corpse. If the corpse does not give him back, he signs the death certificate.

Somewhere there is a cat in a box which is both alive and dead. Although if they don't open the box to feed the animal, they will sooner or later there will be two different dead cats.

As written in the papers, if true, not cool enough, print the legend.

All people do the same thing. They may feel that they sin unique, but for the most part in their petty mischief, nothing is original.

A city without a bookstore and not a city at all, if you want my opinion. It might call itself a city, but if there is no book, he knows that no living soul he doesn't cheat.

Ideas are harder to kill than people, but ultimately they can be killed.

- Oh, and as a Gentile to whom you worship?
- Worship?
- That's it. I think you have there is probably a large selection. So who have you built a home altar? Who do you put the bows? Who do you pray at dawn and at sunset?
The waitress several times silently opened and closed his mouth before finally speaking:
- The life-giving feminine. You know.
- Well it is necessary. And it is so feminine, what's his name?
- She is a goddess inside each of us - broke girl with an eyebrow ring. - Her name is not necessary.
- Yeah, - handed, grinning, Environment, so in her honor you are throwing a violent Orgy? Drink blood wine under the full moon, and the silver candlesticks you have burning red candles? You step naked into sea foam, and the waves licking your legs, caress your thighs with tongues of a thousand leopards?

Sitting on the grassy slope, he began to look at the surrounding city and to think about the fact that sooner or later will have to return home. And sooner or later he will have to create a house that you could go. Maybe home is what happens to a place for the accident of time? Or the fact that in the end, if just long enough to go, wait and want?

We are not always mindful of those things that don't do us justice. We tend to justify them, to be wrapped in bright wrappers lie or cover with a thick dust of forgetfulness.