Best 607 quotes in «mythology quotes» category

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.

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 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.

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.

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

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

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

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 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 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.

He whispered as he kissed down her neck. “I would love nothing more than to take you right here on the counter, Fire Angel, but if I’m late to meet with your grandmothers, they might just decide to throw my ass on a funeral pyre and I wouldn’t be back for three days.

His fingers painted my skin with ruby red patterns of desire. In Keahi’s kiss I could taste the red burn of chili encrusted in the rich sweetness of melted chocolate. I breathed in his scent and it spoke to me of vanilla. The ink of my malu tattoo began to burn, searing markings of fiery joy.

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.

His lips caressed her ear. “Best dance of my entire life.

His lips are soft and crushing at the same time. I’m not sure what to do—is there an algorithm for kissing?

How can I put the Auras back in the chest?” I asked, terror boiling inside my stomach. “You can’t. Not if those that were or will be struck by them won’t be eager to express their feelings and let you help them. You do not change people, dearie. It’s the people that change themselves. You’re the Guardian, but they’re the bearers,” the Oracle whispered. “I’m no Guardian. I’m doomed!” I said and I knew that this was true.

How did you… never mind. I keep forgetting you are a demon and can travel anywhere in the blink of an eye.” “And don’t you forget it. Anything you desire can be yours in a matter of moments.

How do you give something away with the knowledge that you will get it back in three days, and then claim it to be the 'Ultimate Sacrifice'?

How do you know?” I look at him like he’s one Centaur short of a herd. “Soothsayer, remember? I know stuff.

How foolish of me to have disregarded you, dear goddess. I won’t make that mistake again.

How you must hate Logres,” she said in a dry mouth. “Hate Logres?” He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “There is an anger that is deserved, Blanche. Tell me. Look me in the eye, if you can, and tell me—to my face—that Logres is without sin.

Humor is the touchstone of the truly mythological as distinct from the more literal-minded and sentimental theological mood.

I always thought they were fabulous monsters!" said the Unicorn. "Is it alive?" "It can talk," said Haigha, solemnly. The Unicorn looked dreamily at Alice, and said, "Talk, child." Alice could not help her lips curling up into a smile as she began: "Do you know, I always thought Unicorns were fabulous monsters, too! I never saw one alive before!" "Well, now that we have seen each other," said the Unicorn, "if you'll believe in me, I'll believe in you. Is that a bargain?

I am able to separate the mythological aspects of my religion from the practical ones. Jesus, his sacrifice, the Gospels? Those are true to me. Angels, demons, burning bushes, Revelations? Primitive people trying to express the ineffable. I don’t need to be a biblical literalist to love my God.

I am caught. You caught me. Not the other way around. From the very first day. And from the very first day, I would have done anything for you—except let you go. I couldn’t. Not when deep down, I knew we were meant to be like this. To love like this.

I am death; I am this blood, these ravaged lands, and this wanton destruction. – Panchali Draupadi

I am gonna shock the crowd, you are just gonna wow them.

I ate mythology & dreamt' - Yusef Komunyakaa (Blackberries)

I asked "What do you even do with a chimera?" "What wouldn't you do with a chimera?" Jeff asked. "They're like the Swiss Army knife of animals.

I believe she is Selene, goddess of the moon." "She looks so content." "You sound surprised." "Well," Callie said tentatively, "Selene is not the happiest of stories. After all, she is doomed to love a mortal in eternal sleep." St. John turned at her words, obviously impressed. "Her own fault. She should have known better than to ask favors of Zeus. That particular course of action never ends well." "A truth of which Selene was likely acutely aware upon receiving her favor. I assume that this statue depicts a happy Selene before Zeus meddled." "You forget," St. John said, a teasing gleam in his eye, "she and Endymion did have twenty children despite his somnolence, so she couldn't have been so very unhappy with her situation." "With due respect, my lord," Callie said, "bearing and raising twenty children alone does not sound like the happiest of circumstances. I hardly think she would appear so very rested were this a statue depicting her maternal bliss.

…I bet Echo that she couldn't repeat the following line ten times fast:   Cupid's Academy counts kissing cousins as completed conquests cause his classes cunningly conspire unconscious couples to copulate and canoodle copiously.

I bet if I were pharaoh, I’d have had my tomb planned and designed by the time I was ten. I've always wanted to be five steps ahead of where I am. And my mind does it right now: I picture the king on his deathbed, and Ay delivers the awful news to me, but I'm the best embalmer in Thebes thanks to Anubis, so I'm alone in a dark room, and I cut open his soft chest, and take out a heart filled with dreams and love and sadness.

I can’t get enough of you,” he said against her neck. “When I walk away from you I feel like I’ve cut myself off from breathing.

I caught his hand. “What do you want me to do?” Leaning down, he kissed the pulse beating on my neck just above the damaged skin. “Tomorrow, I need you to die.

I’d gone from living alone in New York as a lowly shoe clerk to becoming a shieldmaiden with a family to come home to. It didn’t get much better than that.

I did not do it for you, sire." Gawain was deadly serious now. "Death comes to us and all mortals. I shall still lose you one day. But Logres! The only perfection under heaven would fall if I could not save you.

I don't know about you, the world is here to be mythologized. It has, therefore, no other end. Transforming into myth, to be a myth! That's what we call eternity.

I don’t know why anyone thinks looking at the stars is so romantic,” he said. “Have they ever read Greek mythology? It’s all the same story—God sees mortal, God desires mortal, mortal suffers gruesome fate and is rewarded with an eternity of pain in the cosmos.” He shrugged. “You could always make up your own stories.” But she was already shaking her head. “No. Those stories are written in stardust millions of years old. I don’t think I get to change them.” “Then I’m thankful for light pollution,” he said.

I do tasks for the gods, usually things like tracking down rare items or taking someone safely to a destination." D'Molay the Freeman Tracker

I dropped my dress to the floor and sat on the sofa with renewed determination. This man was going to have sex with me whether he liked it or not.

I dropped my bag to the floor and the sound echoed throughout the house. No one shouted, "who's home?" or "Cassie? Is that you?". Instead the house gobbled up the sound as if it didn't know when the next taste of noise would come. Then again, the house hadn't experienced Olivia yet.

I feared my soul was dying, being replaced by the monster I would become.

I fear no hell, just as I expect no heaven. Nabokov summed up a nonbeliever’s view of the cosmos, and our place in it, thus: “The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness.” The 19th-century Scottish historian Thomas Carlyle put it slightly differently: “One life. A little gleam of Time between two Eternities.” Though I have many memories to cherish, I value the present, my time on earth, those around me now. I miss those who have departed, and recognize, painful as it is, that I will never be reunited with them. There is the here and now – no more. But certainly no less. Being an adult means, as Orwell put it, having the “power of facing unpleasant facts.” True adulthood begins with doing just that, with renouncing comforting fables. There is something liberating in recognizing ourselves as mammals with some fourscore years (if we’re lucky) to make the most of on this earth. There is also something intrinsically courageous about being an atheist. Atheists confront death without mythology or sugarcoating. That takes courage.

If I were to lock you up in a dungeon, I guarantee you would not be bored.

If I wasn't discovering something, if I wasn't studying, well then, what was I doing? I know I wouldn’t be happy unless I made a difference. So what was the happiness of a moment worth against the happiness of my life?" I let out a breathy laugh and squeeze his hand. "I guess it doesn't matter now.” I stare out over camp, but a glassy sadness blurs my vision. “Have you ever wanted something so much that everything else in the world seemed so small?" He tilts his head toward me, narrowing his eyes. "I'm beginning to.

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