Best 607 quotes in «mythology quotes» category

Every hero is scared. That-s what being brave is about - confronting fear.

Everyone has a weakness. Even a demigod.

Everyone thinks of Anubis as this super jacked up jackal. I find that amusing. I guess he must work out a lot.” I guess when you think of it, it is kind of funny. No other picture of gods from that time are ripped. I guess Anubis did Egyptian steroids.

Evil people can still keep promises. Many have done just that, girl, though they are usually not promises you ‘rational’ people wish them to keep.

Excercise is nothing more than a depressing reminder that one is not a god.

Experiment: Live and love as much as I can, before my particles fall away to wander in stardust.

Fairest of the deathless gods. This idea the Greeks had of him is best summed up not by a poet, but by a philosopher, Plato: "Love—Eros—makes his home in men's hearts, but not in every heart, for where there is hardness he departs. His greatest glory is that he cannot do wrong nor allow it; force never comes near him. For all men serve of him their own free will. And he whom Love touches not walks in darkness.

Far, far out on the open sea a platform of stone held firm against the tossing waves. At first sight, it appeared as nothing out of the ordinary, other than that it lay in the middle of nowhere. That was the view on the surface. Beneath the water existed an entirely alien world.

Fear is a constant, and faith is a choice. Fear comes from karma, from faith arises dharma.

Fight for faith, and hope will be born.

Find the Seventh Sister, And the girl shall be, Your spiritual guardian, For eternity.

For centuries, pilgrims have travelled to Ayodhya identifying it as a birthplace of Ram. But the exact location is a subject of dispute and political turmoil. Ever since colonial times, Hinduism has felt under siege, forced to explain itself using European templates, make itself more tangible, more structured, more homogenous, more historical, more geographical, less psychological, less emotional, to render itself as valid as the major religions of the world like Christianity, Judaism and Islam. The fallout of this pressure is the need to locate matters of faith in a particular spot. What used to be once a matter of faith becomes a territorial war zone where courts have to intervene

For many years Minos has been lucky to have in his court the most gifted inventor, the most skilled artificer outside of the Olympian forges of Hephaestus. His name is Daedalus and he is capable of fashioning moving objects out of metal, bronze, wood, ivory and gemstones. He has mastered the art of tightly coiling leaves of steel into powerful springs, which control wheels and chains to form intricate and marvellous mechanisms that mark the passage of the hours with great precision and accuracy, or control the levels of watercourses. There is nothing this cunning man cannot contrive in his workshop. There are moving statues there, men and women animated by his skill, boxes that play music and devices that can awaken him in the morning. Even if only half the stories of what Daedalus can achieve are true then you can be certain that no more cunning and clever an inventor, architect and craftsman has ever walked this earth.

Forever is a really long time.

From the necks up... well, whoever said two heads are better than one never met a hydra.

From a medical standpoint, the third and the most probable explanation is that Jesus was indeed dead, and what his disciples experienced were mere hallucinations evoked by the grief over the loss of their beloved teacher. It is clinically known as “Post-Bereavement Hallucinations Experiences” or PBHE.

From beneath the folds of his robes, he reveals a small steel dagger. “You have tempted fate so many times already and still yield to it. Time for history to rewrite itself. Time for Tutankhamen to have a new ending.” Aten holds the hilt out to me. I stare at the dagger. The hilt is bronze, carved with sun discs that glow when they catch the sun. “What do you want me to do with that?” Aten smiles a white, gaping grin. “Kill Tutankhamen and carve out his heart.

For too long now divinity and destiny have legitimized what reason and compassion would not. An individual for a family, a family for the kingdom, a kingdom for an empire... And now – an empire for humanity. – Govinda Shauri

From The Ghost Wars- on the concept of the Torah as ancient science fiction. “Take the story of the fall of the tower of Babel. Let’s say this represents not an act of God, nor a metaphor for this planet’s diverse linguistic heritage; but a catastrophic act of terrorism by the Divisionists to sever mankind from the neural net. The internet in this situation becomes mankind’s attempt to build a physical replacement for a natural ability long lost. Think of it as a wooden leg or a pacemaker.

Gaia visited her daughter Mnemosyne, who was busy being unpronounceable.

Gawain laid his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Sir Perceval, when the priest reads the lesson, he says that he who would save his life must lose it. Good words for any man, for there are moments when cowardice will bring death more surely than boldness. But the ordinary man knows, when he goes out to meet the wolf in his road, that he may yet come home in peace. Not so the knights of the Round Table. We win through one deadly peril only to face another. If we banish one evil, we must go on to the next and after that, to the next—until death meets us in the path. We yield up our bodies every day, not for glory and fortune but so that those weaker than ourselves may live. Do you understand?” “I do,” said Sir Perceval. “And I say that there is no nobler calling. I am content.” But then he thought of the Lady Blanchefleur kissing his brow on a night of fire and blood, and with a sudden ache of grief told himself that even a hundred years of peace would not be enough time to spend with her.

God lives and works in history. The outward mythology changes, the inward truth remains the same.

[Hades] returned his attention to the playlist while I eased the car back on the road. His fingers flipped deftly over the screen. 'Orpheus...Dusk...Orpheus...Dusk...do you have anything on here that doesn't make people want to jump off a cliff?' ... 'I'm driving. When you learn to drive something more modern than a horse and buggy, we can listen to your music.' 'I can drive!' 'Did they even have cars the last time you can to the surface?' I teased. 'Yes.' 'Not counting the minute and a half you spent rescuing me last year?' Hades fell silent, and I laughed. 'I didn't think so.

Hades does not have a runny nose. I know this. The entire Greek pantheon no doubt knows this. For some reason, my nose is unaware of this basic fact of mythology.

Hades cracked his knuckles on each hand, and the noise was like gunpowder caps exploding in the silence. "First dish duty," he mumbled to himself, "now possessed cowboys. This just isn't my night.

He grinned. “Do not fear. I am here to serve you, as I promised.” Despite the fit of schoolgirl giggles that had seized her in Carbonek when he first proposed to be her knight, his assurance annoyed her now. “You inspire me with confidence,” she said, honey-sweet. “With a few more years and experience, you would make a capable guardian, I’m sure.” “And you an amiable ward,” he said, bowing again.

He felt Herakles' hand move on his thigh and Geryon's head went back like a poppy in a breeze --

Harpies, n. A disease transmitted to humans by birds with human faces.

Have I cheated death again? Hades must be allergic to me.

He’d used the amulet to read my thoughts again. I pictured smacking him in the face.

He finally understood...the thing that the people during the Paleolitic Age, freaking 20,000 to 8,000 B.C., were after when they came up with mythologies to do with flight—a desire for the magic of the sky, for something bigger than their feet treading the earth.

He holds out a trembling hand and traces the shape of her arm, descending to her elbow. “You’re like mist,” he says. “You really don’t feel this?” Love shakes her head. “No.” But that’s not entirely true, because this illusion of a touch has turned her into a current, this human has reached down to her bones. Then his fingers curl right through her hip, and he lowers his voice. “How ’bout that?

He knelt down beside her and slowly rubbed a soft, muculent mix on her bare skin like a sculptor at work. It carried the pleasurable smell of wet earth. With his fingertips, he gently stroked every part of her body; and with every stroke, she groaned softly. She felt the pain that filled every bone in her body, yet she also felt the immense sensation of pleasure and comfort that was so foreign to her

Helios thought he looked pretty hot, and he had an annoying habit of calling the sun his "chick magnet.

He loved a lifeless thing and he was utterly and hopelessly wretched.

He looked at Hippie Zeus. “You’re welcome to help.” The statue said nothing. “Thanks, Pops,” Jason muttered.

He is tolerated by the gods, perhaps because his stratagems and plans save them as often as they get them into trouble. Loki makes the world more interesting but less safe. He is the father of monsters, the author of woes, the sly god.

Hello to you too, sunshine.” Pulling a book out of my bag, I cracked it open and settled into my time-toignore- Grayson pose. A pose that took me weeks to perfect. “Let’s not pretend we enjoy each other’s company.” “Don’t you get sick of always being…” He waved his hand back and forth in my direction like a conductor guiding an orchestra. “You?” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Just that if the stick in your ass got any higher we could hang a flag over your head and declare you your own state.

Her ‘death’ was the only way for her to live.

He raised a brow at another abrupt change in the conversation. “Are you disappointed I couldn’t dodge a couple bullets?” A real smile teased her lips as she lowered her coffee mug. “On the contrary, I’m a sucker for a guy with scars, so for your protection, we should probably stick to the case.

Her physical beauty had initially caught my attention, but it was her spirit that imprisoned my heart and soul forever. - Jonathan

Heresy is the life of a mythology and orthodoxy is the death.

Her uneasy gaze skittered along the length of his arms, which were exposed by his rolled-up shirtsleeves... and stopped at the astonishing sight of a design that had been inked onto his right forearm. It was a small black horse with wings. Noticing her mesmerized stare, Rohan lowered his arm to give her a better view. "An Irish symbol," he murmured. "A nightmare horse, called a pooka." The absurd-sounding word brought a faint smile to Daisy's lips. "Does it wash off?" she asked hesitantly. He shook his head, his lashes half lowering over his remarkable eyes. "Is a pooka like the Pegasus of the Greek myths?" Daisy asked, flattening herself as close to the wall as possible. Rohan glanced down her body, taking a kind of leisurely inventory that no man ever had before. "No. He's far more dangerous. He has eyes of yellow fire, a stride that clears mountains, and he speaks in a human voice as deep as a cave. At midnight, he may stop in front of your house and call out your name if he wants to take you for a ride. If you go with him, he'll fly you across earth and oceans... and if you ever return, your life will never be the same.

He shook his head again. “I’m afraid I don’t feel much of anything these days. Especially not hope. I have no time or energy to waste on false wishes and dreams that won’t come true.” “Hope isn’t about ignorant wishing.” She surprised even herself with her defensive backlash. “Hope is about believing—believing there are better things in store for us if we just wait for them. It’s about understanding we’re not left completely on our own here, regardless of the way things appear.” Lamont snorted. “That ain’t much for a body to go on.” “Perhaps not, but I reckon it’s enough. Sometimes it’s gotta be, anyhow. Without hope, what would drive one onward?” He was silent for a long moment before he looked up and met her eyes. His own eyes displayed no emotion when he answered in a weary, grim tone, “Fear.” He took a drink and fell silent again as she quietly scrutinized him, attempting to discern in his haggard face the thoughts behind what he had said.

He stares blankly, then leaves the room like a ghost—never truly here. I gaze at the doorway. I do not know if he means for me to follow him. It’s a choice then. And I realize that this is no choice at all, but rather a sentence. By love or by evil, somehow I am bound to Tutankhamen. It’s not a choice any more if I will follow him, but a question of what I will do when I catch him.

He’s so powerful. Who knows maybe he’s advanced past eating

He thought of the deep crevasses and windy caves of Underlay, and the stories of the creatures that dwelt there. Of course, he didn’t believe in them. He’d told them, because the handing on of an oral mythology was very important to a developing culture, but he didn’t believe in supernatural monsters. He shivered. He hoped they didn’t believe in him.

He threw the knife at Karian’s face, deliberately catching his temple. “Sons of Kings shouldn’t play with sharp toys.

He turned to look at her. "We've some talking to do." "Didn't we do that on the plane ride over here?" "I doona remember talking. I remember kissing, touching, and many orgasms, but no talking.

He took her hand. If it were in my power, I would take you to that place from your movie, over the rainbow where dreams come true. But all I can offer is myself, and I'm not going anywhere.