Donar the Great

American Gods 2×6

♪ Take... ♪
♪ Ten terrific girls but only nine costumes ♪
♪ You're cooking up something grand ♪

Mr. Wednesday: Playing dead convincingly is an underrated skill.

Mr. Wednesday: Would you get my guitar out of the trunk, partner?

Mr. Wednesday: Dies irm, dies illa, Solvet saeclum in favilla, Teste David cum Sibylla. Huh? To dead malls everywhere: may you rot in the detritus of your own cupidity!

Mr. Nancy: I'm gonna count to seven and I'm startin' at four!

Mr. Wednesday: Tell me, wh-why do you wear the flanged thwarts?
Manfred: Sorry?
Mr. Wednesday: The angle cross of fylfot. The rune on Gunnvaldr's stone.
Manfred: Oh, my armband? It's the symbol of our organization. The Friends of New Germany.
Mr. Wednesday: Oh, right. I wasn't aware she'd landed on our shores.

Shadow Moon: All this for a leather jacket?
Sindri: Lou Reed's leather jacket! It's the most powerful item in the whole mall.

Donar Odinson: Why were they wearing the flanged thwarts?
Miss Columbia: They were Nazis, weren't they?
Al Grimnir: They're sheep in search of a shepherd. Like he is a God in search of worshippers.

Miss Columbia: American Nazis... They frighten me, Donnie.
Donar Odinson: They're only men. They're nothing to be afraid of.

---

Mr. Wednesday: He was a moody Jewish kid from Long Island. A destructive, drug-addled genius who defined an era by dredging the depths of his soul and setting them to the music of a badly tuned guitar. Oh, this jacket has rubbed shoulders with David Bowie, Grace Jones, Iggy Pop, Patty Smith. And it simply must be mine.

Mr. Wednesday: Former son. He died.
Shadow Moon: From what I've read, Thor was the son of Odin.
Mr. Wednesday: Donar was his... taken name. Germanic for thunder.

Shadow Moon: I don't understand. I-I-I don't get... how does Thor die? Zorya, I understand. She-she didn't have any believers left, it makes sense. But Thor? Thor? Everybody knows who Thor is. Why didn't he come back?
Mr. Wednesday: There are certain deaths our kind cannot come back from.

Technical Boy: The country, as you probably know, is on the brink of another war.
Miss Columbia: Is it? I've been out of the loop.
Technical Boy: America needs a goddess of substance to take us into the fight. My associates and I know all about you. Hoo, boy. You were doing great until Mademoiselle Liberty came along and stole your thunder. ....
Miss Columbia: She's Roman, actually... Libertas. Resurrected by the French as a gift to the Americans. Funny old world.
Technical Boy: Hm. Roman, French... Whatever. It's the American way of life we're concerned about.

Mr. Wednesday: Sacrifice is the only noble act. As gods, it's our sustenance and currency. I regret nothing.

Mr. Wednesday: Suicide. Suicide: that's the kind of death that Gods can't come back from.

Shadow Moon: Did the Valkyries provide safe passage?
Mr. Wednesday: Honestly?... I have no idea.

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