“You may be a monster, but you’re funny. I’ll give you that.”
“I’m not a monster,” said Shadow.
“Aye, that’s what monsters always say,” said the little man.
“I was a specialist once. In St. Andrews. Now I’m in general practice. Well, I
was. I’m semiretired. Go in to the surgery a couple of days a week, just to
keep my hand in.”
“Why do you say I’m a monster?” asked Shadow.
“Because,” said the little man, lifting his
whisky glass with the air of one making an irrefutable point, “I am something
of a monster myself. Like calls to like. We are all monsters, are we not?
Glorious monsters, shambling through the swamps of unreason….”
From "The Monarch of Glen" by Neil Gaiman