“Some things may change," said Wednesday, abruptly. "People, however... People stay the same.”

“Wednesday was talking to him. “I’m sorry?” said Shadow. “I said we’re here,” said Wednesday. “You were somewhere else.”

“Here you go, she said. I don't need it anymore. I'm very grateful. I think it may have saved my life, saved some other people's death.”

“Nobody's American," said Wednesday. "Not originally. That's my point.”

“I'm a has-been. Who the fuck cares about me?"Shadows said softly, "You're a god".Wednesday looked at him sharply. [...] "So?""It's a good thing to be a god", said Shadow"Is it?”

“Does that change things?” asked the old man. “MaybeAnansi’s just some guy from a story, made up back in Africa inthe dawn days of the world by some boy with blackfly on his leg,pushing his crutch in the dirt, making up some goofy storyabout a man made of tar. Does that change anything? People respondto the stories. They tell them themselves. The storiesspread, and as people tell them, the stories change the tellers.Because now the folk who never had any thought in their headbut how to run from lions and keep far enough away from riversthat the crocodiles don’t get an easy meal, now they’re starting todream about a whole new place to live. The world may be thesame, but the wallpaper’s changed. Yes? People still have thesame story, the one where they get born and they do stuff andthey die, but now the story means something different to what itmeant before.”

“This is a roadside attraction,' said Wednesday. 'One of the finest. Which means it is a place of power.”