Best 607 quotes in «mythology quotes» category

It's about loving you so much that it makes me feel miserable and elated at the same time. It's about needing you so much that I feel like I can't breathe without you.

It's a pook, a messenger...spy is more like it," Kern explained sourly. "This one will tattle, and I'll never hear the end of it when I go back." An eyebrow lifted. "Consorting with a human.

It's rather good to pretend to be normal with someone.

It's time for a whole new myth!

It was hope that brought me love.

It was like listening to the universe in motion. Planets spinning on their appointed courses, the lives of men intersecting and parting, the unimaginable harmony of the human body itself in hierarchy and order, were all implied in the song, but something greater as well: the genius of the composer, which must surely approach the miraculous. Perceval closed his eyes and was lost in the weaving music.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Griffin asked me to take a chance. On him. On trust. On love. I did, and look where it got me. That my misery is my own damn fault doesn’t escape me. It just makes it worse.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. I was supposed to free him. I was supposed to save him. I was supposed to save everyone.

I understood something then. My sister might be twice the goddess I was, but I was twice the witch. Her crumbling trash could not help me.

I’ve always like Medieval literature. As a young girl I read mythologies and Norse legends, that sort of thing. I loved Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. While I was studying at Middle Tennessee State University for doctoral program I came in contact with more ancient literature. I examined older literature more seriously which intrigued and fascinated me very much; I was drawn to it. For the book I used all my own translations of Beowulf from my doctorate. Culture is contained in language, if you study a language you’ll see bits of culture, because the words are different and you see into the lives of the people. The Anglo-Saxon language touched me very deeply. Some of it is the heroic. Some of it is the melancholy. But there is also honor. You uphold, you fight to the death. Even if you watch movies, like Marvel comic book movies, like Thor: you want the great ones to win. Its even better if they have a fault. But you want the heroic character to win.

I’ve heard the name before: Anubis. An Egyptian name. The name of a god. The god of the dead.

I want you too, so much,” she whispered. He murmured in her ear, “Then take me.

I want to go home.” “Impossible. You’re here now.” “But why?” “Jane Ezrael,” Anubis says, “you’re dead.

I want to hate you, to loathe you, to detest you, but for all my attempts, the need to touch you is ten times more powerful.

Little did they suspect that the years would end by wearing away the disharmony. Little did they suspect that La Mancha and Montiel and the knight's frail figure would be, for the future, no less poetic than Sinbad's haunts or Ariosto's vast geographies. For myth is at the beginning of literature, and also at its end.

I was told that Ganesha sat between Lakshmi and Saraswati. My quest to attain the blessings of both goddesses explains my physique.

Literature is still doing the same job that mythology did earlier, but filling in its huge cloudy shapes with sharper lights and deeper shadows.

I wasn’t made for Griffin, and he wasn’t made for me. We were made for each other.

linear brains can't curve a thought.

Looking is the nature of wisdom.

Lorenzo: In such a night stood Dido with a willow in her hand upon the wild sea-banks, and waft her love to come again to Carthage Jessica: In such a night Medea gathered the enchanted herbs that did renew old Aeson. Lorenzo: In such a night did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew, and with an unthrift love did run from Venice, as far as Belmont. Jessica: In such a night did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well, stealing her soul with many vows of faith, and ne'er a true one. Lorenzo: In such a night did pretty Jessica (like a little shrow) slander her love, and he forgave it her. Jessica: I would out-night you, did nobody come; but hark, I hear the footing of a man.

Look—my feet don’t hit the marble! Like breath or a balloon, I’m rising, I hover six inches in the air in my blazing swan-egg of light. You think I’m not a goddess? Try me. This is a torch song. Touch me and you’ll burn.

Look out your window on a morning in spring, ten or twenty years hence, and perhaps you'll see me coming.

Love knows all.

Love is a powerful Emotion even a New Born understands, It has kept its word in History and Mythology; it has and will never die.

Love her enough to let her live.

Marilynn...passed out black cases to everyone. I opened mine to find an iPad inside. Several candidates whistled. Despite my agitated state, it impressed me too. Maybe wizard school wasn’t going to be as lame as I had thought. “All of your schedules and assignments will be done on these,” Marilynn explained. “The whole school is on these. We’ve had them for awhile now.

Many more have died of attempting love than victory, and countless numbers hate love more than war. Honor has often been the dear prize awarded to the killers of lovers. The epics of war have always and still outnumber the epics of love. For those who love deeply and greatly gain a clairvoyant, excruciating awareness of the fear and suffering of the world along with their joy, which few warriors could endure. Who is not more truly afraid of a love story than of a tale of war?

Matt was almost completely naked. A tattered loincloth and an ugly chain with a yellow diamond were his only apparel.

Men like you and I make myths, we weave stories to sanctify the life that has been given to us. But not Govinda. Men like him don’t make myths; they make destiny. – Kshatta Vidur

Memories of lost love they do enpain, Fleeting images of what once was never again to gain. Hold tight those memories that slip through the mind, To walk in those fields again with her—a dream divined. Oh to be with that lost Valkyrie forevermore again, To hold her hand delicate until the last world’s end. To be at peace once amore in deep loving soul, Husband to wife in embracing hold. How he loved her so, but she was now gone, Leaf to the wind, heart tossed and tumbled torn. Memories like arrows stick deep—ohhh so deep, Shafts of pain and joy assail the soul’s lonely keep. --Angel-Heart, Ch. 22 Valley of the Damned

micel walcan wolde we do from that daeg micel walcan in the great holt the brunnesweald but though we walced for wices months years though this holt becum ham to me for so long still we did not see efen a small part of it so great was this deop eald wud. so great was it that many things dwelt there what was not cnawan to man but only in tales and in dreams. wihts for sure the boar the wulf the fox efen the bera it was saed by sum made this holt their ham. col beorners and out laws was in here as they was in all wuds but deop deoper efen than this was the eald wihts what was in angland before men here i is meanan the aelfs and the dweorgs and ents who is of the holt who is the treows them selfs. my grandfather he telt me he had seen an aelf at dusc one daeg he seen it flittan betweon stoccs of treows thynne it was and grene and its eages was great and blaec and had no loc of man in them. well he was blithe to lif after that for oft it is saed that to see an aelf is to die for they sceots their aelf straels at thu and aelfscot is a slow death

Maybe I better shower with you.” She bit her lower lip. “For safety’s sake.

(...) maybe in our bodies there's a whole world of mythology? Maybe there exists some sort of reflection of the great and the small, the human body joining within itself everything with everything - stories and heroes, gods and animals, the order of plants and the harmony of minerals?

- Maybe you're a succubus who hunts for my flesh? Or Mephistopheles, who hunts for my soul? - Oh, no! I am much worse: succubus wants body, Mephistopheles wants soul, but I want you all, with your flesh and soul!

Mental discipline, prayer and remoteness from the world and its disturbing visions reduce temptation to a minimum, but they can never entirely abolish it. In medieval traditions, abbeys and convents were always considered to be expugnable centres of revolt against infernal dominion on earth. They became, accordingly, special targets. Satan, issuing orders at nightfall to his foul precurrers, was rumoured to dispatch to capital cities only one junior fiend. This solitary demon, the legend continues, sleeps at his post. There is no work for him; the battle was long ago won. But monasteries, those scattered danger points, become the chief objectives of nocturnal flight; the sky fills with the beat of sable wings as phalanx after phalanx streams to the attack, and the darkness crepitates with the splintering of a myriad lances against the masonry of asceticism.

— Mi lenne, ha nyomnánk egy kis Adidas-reklámot? – kérdezte Percy. – Szerintetek Niké bepörögne tőle és előjönne? Leo idegesen mosolygott. Talán mégis van valami közös benne és Percyben: a fárasztó humor

Most civilizations had more fiction than they did real history.

Most discipline is hidden discipline, designed not to liberate but to limit. Do not ask Why? Be cautious with How? Why? leads inexorably to paradox. How? traps you in a universe of cause and effect. Both deny the infinite.

Morrigan moved across the room as if she were floating. “I will acknowledge your anger, Aerric, but only for a moment. The others will lead the charge against the fledglings, but I want you to track Liam and report back to me directly. How many Sluagh did you take out today?” I shook my head. “Five total, but with all due respect, Goddess, I am going to need a bit more of an explanation as to why the love of my life is lying here before me, alive and well, when she was supposed to have died two centuries ago.

Mortals were such fickle creatures. They called into the dark, demanded answers and attention from forces they could not comprehend, and yet when they had that attention and those answers, they complained about them.

My name is Arianna Morganna Brittany DuLac--you can imagine why I went by the name Ryan.

Most people don’t get their soul mates in their designated lifetime or if ever they do, they let them go. It doesn’t matter to me who you are, who you love, as long as they love you back. That is what’s important. The world seems to have forgotten that and have conducted themselves all based on the concept of love that is both selfish, misguided and outdated. And if the world saw what we see, things would be a whole lot better.

My body lies within the strings and myths of reality with a purpose of evolution and adapted by gravity but for my conscious's matrix is without any doubt has adapted to other's consciousness and that is how we all adapt to survival.

My death granted immortality. With one look, I knew he’d be my undoing…” Forgotten, book #1 of the Fate Trilogy

My reading and studying and retellings of old stories didn't do anything except help me think better. I was at least thoughtful. Too thoughtful, my friends said. And all I thought about was myths and old paintings that made me feel drunk on wine or struck my lightning but didn't matter to most people.

Myth is already enlightenment, and enlightenment reverts to mythology.

Mythology didn't cease to exist and be useful to Pagans when we gained digital watch technology.

Mythology is Fan Fiction - for the Gods.

Myths are different than fairy tales or legends. Legends are stories based in history and are more or less true. Myths, on the other hand, are stories containing a deeper truth—stories that transcend time. If you were to travel the world, you would find myths that are remarkably similar to one another—stories of heroes fighting the darkness with the light.