A Murder of Gods

American Gods 1×6

& Shadow Moon: What are they?
    Mr. Wednesday: It’s hard to quantify.
    Shadow Moon: Motherfucker. You never just answer a fucking question.
    Mr. Wednesday: It’s not a question, Shadow. A question would be «What do you believe you saw?»

& Mr. Wednesday: What’s a god? Can we even know they exist? People believe things, which means they’re real. That means we know they exist. So what came first, gods or the people who believed in them?

& Shadow Moon: All right, so... where was all this before I met you?
    Mr. Wednesday: On the periphery, just outside, there’s always a window, but people are frightened to look through it.

& Laura Moon: Do you have a car?
    Mad Sweeney: Yes. I do.
    Laura Moon: Well, chop-chop, Ginger Minge, let’s go.
    Mad Sweeney: Isn’t she lovely?

& Mad Sweeney: I’ve done the math. This times that equals you’re a cunt, divided by the only way I’m going to get what I need is if you give it to me, equals the only way you’re going to give it to me is if you don’t need it. Like my friend Jesus Christ, the only thing you need, dead wife... is resurrection.

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& Laura Moon: Did you just name drop Jesus Christ like you know a guy who knows a guy?
    Mad Sweeney: I do know a guy who knows a guy, and the guy sitting next to that guy is your guy.
    Laura Moon: And who’s this guy your guy knows?
    Mad Sweeney: Someone who can perform a resurrection without the use of a charmed coin.
    Laura Moon: And you’re just going to convince this guy to bring me back to life?
    Mad Sweeney: I can be very convincing.

& Mad Sweeney: I’ll tell you. Once we’re in Kentucky.

& Shadow Moon: It’s all so fucked up.
    Mr. Wednesday: Religion inspires in those who fear nothing, fear of the gods, and using that fear requires a certain element of fucked up.

& Salim: Are you dead? You smell dead. Although, um, that might be the cigarette.

& Mad Sweeney: This ain’t Kentucky. Where’s Kentucky?

& Mad Sweeney: Death do us part. Take the fuckin’ hint.

& Mr. Wednesday: Somebody’s watching. Somebody’s always watching.

& Vulcan: You are what you worship. ... The power of fire is firepower. Not God. But god-like. And they believe. It fills their spirits every time they pull the trigger. They feel my heat on their hip, and it keeps them warm at night. God bless the believers.

& Shadow Moon: What did you do? Oh, fuck, what did you do? What are you doing?
    Mr. Wednesday: I’m layin’ down a curse. I’m cursing the whole fucking thing.

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