“It quickly became a tracking operation, though. My chariot could not keep up with his truck. By the time I caught up with him, his truck was parked in one of those asphalt wastelands. What are they called again"?The Tuatha De Danann have no problem asking Druids for information. That's what we're for, after all. The secret to becoming an Old Druid instead of a dead Druid is to betray nary a hint of condescension when answering even the simplest questions."They are called parking lots," I replied."Ah, yes, thank you. He came out of a building called 'Crussh', holding one of these potions. Are you familar with the building, Druid?""I belive that is a smoothie bar in England.""Quite right. So after I killed him and stowed his body next to the doe, I sampled his smooth concoction in the parking lot and found it to be quite delicious".See, sentences like that are why I nurture a healthy fear of the Tuatha De Danann.”

“I can't spend too much time in the forests because I invariably leave traces-ridiculously happy trees, basically, since I'm the last Druid in the world and they tend to geek out like Joss Whedon fans when I show up.”

“Druid log July 15: Dark elves are not only quick and efficient killers, but creative and pyrotechnically inclined ones.”

“Atticus:"Damn it, Jim, I'm a Druid not a Physicist!”

“I had an ASU student looking for it in my shop last week, and he defined the Bacchants for me as 'those drunk chicks who killed that one dude because he wouldn't have sex with them.' His professors must be so proud. I asked him if he knew what maenads were, and instead of correctly answering that it was just another name for Bacchants, he bizarrely thought I was referring to my own testicles - as in, "'Ere now, mate, don't swing that bat around me nads.'" The conversation deteriorated quickly after that.”

“Malina looked incredulous. "Are you anything more than a Druid?""Of course I am. I own this shop and I play a mean game of chess, and I've been told that I'm a frakkin' Cylon.""What's a frakkin' Cylon?""I don't know, but it sounds really scary when you say it with a Polish Accent.”

“Lord Bacchus, can you hear me? Nod if you can hear me."Bacchus dropped his hands and nodded."You have never killed a Druid all by yourself, and you never will. Only with hordes of Bacchants and Roman legionnaires and the aid of Minerva have you ever managed to slay a single one of us. Your lackeys may get me eventually, and I know that I will never be able to slay you, but admit to yourself now that you, alone, will never prove my equal. The earth obeys me, son, not some petty god of grape and goblet." I switched to English for a postscript, "So suck on that, bitch.”