“Tastes like a drunken diabetic's piss,' agreed Wednesday. 'I hate the stuff.”

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

“It occurred to him that the reason he liked Wednesday and Mr. Nancy and the rest of them better than their opposition was pretty straightforward: they might be dirty, and cheap, and their food might taste like shit, but at least they didn’t speak in clichés. And he guessed he would take a roadside attraction, no matter how cheap, how crooked, or how sad, over a shopping mall any day.”

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

“Because if you don't stand up for the stuff you don't like, when they come for the stuff you do like, you've already lost.”

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

“The limeade was very interesting. It didn't taste anything like limes. It tasted bright green and vaguely chemical.”