Neil Gaiman's American Gods: On Lady Liberty
"Lady Liberty, like so many of the gods America holds dear, a foreigner. In this case, a frenchwoman, but in deference to American sensibilities, the French covered up her magnificent bosom on that statue they presented to New York.
"Liberty is a bitch who must be bedded on a mattress of corpses."
"Yeah?"
"Quoting... Quoting someone French. That's who they have a statue to, in their New York harbor; a bitch who liked to be fucked on the refuse from the tumbril. Hold your torch as high as you want to, m'dear, there's still rats in your dress and cold jism dripping down your leg."
"I think she's beautiful..."
"That is the eternal folly of man. To be chasing after the sweet flesh, without realizing that it is only a pretty cover for the bones. Worm food. At night you're rubbing yourself against worm food. No offense meant."
"Liberty is a bitch who must be bedded on a mattress of corpses."
"Yeah?"
"Quoting... Quoting someone French. That's who they have a statue to, in their New York harbor; a bitch who liked to be fucked on the refuse from the tumbril. Hold your torch as high as you want to, m'dear, there's still rats in your dress and cold jism dripping down your leg."
"I think she's beautiful..."
"That is the eternal folly of man. To be chasing after the sweet flesh, without realizing that it is only a pretty cover for the bones. Worm food. At night you're rubbing yourself against worm food. No offense meant."