It's harder to pick and choose when you're dead. It's like a photograph, you know. It doesn't matter as much.

Bod shrugged. "So?" he said. "It's only death. I mean, all of my best friends are dead.

It doesn't matter that you didn't believe in us," said Mr. Ibis. "We believed in you.

I loved all books that I could read, and I never knew if I was ready for it until I tried to read it, so I tried to read everything.

None of us exist in a world that is the same world that any of the rest of us live in. The world that's important is the world behind each of our eyes, which is something that none of the rest of us can access.

Nobody actually looks like what they really are on the inside.

We do not always remember the things that do no credit to us. We justify them, cover them in bright lies or with the thick dust of forgetfulness. All of the things that Shadow had done in his life of which he was not proud, all the things he wished he had done otherwise or left undone, came at him then in a swirling storm of guilt and regret and shame, and he had nowhere to hide from them. He was as naked and as open as a corpse on a table, and dark Anubis the jackal god was his prosector and his prosecutor and his persecutor.