Best 258 quotes in «greek mythology quotes» category

Eyes open, Ileana,” he growled. “I want you to see who’s in you. Who gives you what you need.

Fen referred to my lack of finesse as my sluggish human carryover, which was an artful way of saying I sucked and hit like a girl. He kept at me to become more Zenlike and less like a human zombie while I was fighting.

For the world seems never to offer anything worthwhile without also providing a dreadful opposite.

Follow your heart, not the law.

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.

Gods are cold. War, killing, and stabbing each other in the back is really what we do best.

From stars, he was born, and to stars, he shall return.

Hades Where we go when he closes my eyes and under what country; some blue darkness, farther from hell; a landscape of absense and root and stone. There are no bodies here, we dream shapeless dreams-- a constant, cloudless storm. Mother, I'll never wake up from him. I have already traveled too far. My mouth is the color of his mouth and his arms are no longer his arms; they're mute as smoke, as my first white dress, and the spear of his name, once ferocious, dissolves on my tongue like sugar, like birdsong, I whisper it: Hades

Griffin’s eyes capture mine. He holds my face in his hands. “You. Belong. With. Me.

Have you ever had a secret that involved other people, and you couldn't share it without exposing them?I have to be really careful." He rubbed his forehead. "And swimming is going to help?

He has been known to devour men.” “He’s a cannibal?” Cadmus asked in horror. “Well, not really,” Daemon replied. “He is a Cyclops. He does not eat his own kind — just men and only those who challenge him … he does not hunt them.

He crossed his arms over his chest, "I don't get why you push everyone away." "This isn't the time to talk about this." "Should I set up an office visit?

He had the body of a god and a Southern drawl that made her toes curl.

He liked such sharpness, for there was nothing in him that had any blood you might spill.

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

He gripped her hips tightly. "I need you," he whispered, and her heart pounded in answer. She rose up over him and slowly settled onto his erection, moaning as each inch of him filled her, enjoying every second. "Made for me," he growled beneath her.

Hélas! de vos malheurs innocente ou coupable, / De quoi pour vous sauver n'étais-je point capable?

He pressed his lips to her shoulder, whispering along her soft skin, "I'm right where I want to be.

Hero,” said Machaon to his sister who was still muttering to her gods. “Please stop. Surely the gods would have heard you by now … let’s try not to annoy them.

Hera’s form shivered like a candle flame in the breeze

Hero,” he said softly, in a manner that was much like his father’s. “Vengeance and glory are the ways of the Greeks and the Trojans. We are of the Herdsmen.

He reached the huge, empty throne room. Its curved white walls were lined with sleek thrones and marble pillars with swirls winding all the way up. The shooting stars and constellations from the pitch-black ceiling gleamed down at him, fluffy clouds floating aimlessly in the dark outside the arched windows. Footsteps sounded from behind, and he hid behind the nearest throne, watching the entrance as a few of the Olympian gods shuffled inside.

He's at war with himself. Why doesn't he surrender to his feelings and stop fighting himself? He has hang-ups that I must cut him loose from.

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 shook his head. "Those waves are begging us to ride them. Talking can wait.

Hey, Cooper, it's Lia from the geriatric-poker dating service.

He was here. Nice to have someone to hold my hand in the end. "Valkyrie, I need to lift you. This is going to hurt." His arms slid underneath my body. I screamed. Almost gone. I struggled. Needed to tell him not to worry. It wasn't his fault. Don't bother trying to save me. Hurts too much. "What is it, Valkyrie? You have to stop struggling." His head hovered above my mouth. "There's nothing... left to save.

History doesn’t start with a tall building and a card with your name written on it, but jokes do. I think someone is taking us for suckers and is playing a mean game.

His gaze hits mine with the force of a battering ram. He looks… appalled. “I-I won’t do this. I can’t… be with you.

His heart lifted to a state approaching something like happiness, however, when he heard, unexpectedly, the sound of Rhea's low sweet voice humming gently to herself as she came up the slope towards the mountaintop. Loveliest sister and dearest wife! It was quite natural that she had been a little upset by his consumption of their six children, but she surely understood that he had had no choice. She was a Titan, she knew about duty and destiny.

His warm breath hit my neck, and my toes curled. “That may be true,” he murmured, “but I’m pretty sure there’s a wolf inside you, too. Here, let me help you find it.” I turned, falling into his arms, his lips meeting mine, both of us hungry. At least one thing would go right today.

How may a mortal, face and defeat the Kraken

Hunter walked out of the waves, and without any pretense, he wrapped her in his arms. She looked up at him, her eyes searing his. He bent his head lower, his voice a raspy whisper. "I've never met anyone like you.

Hunter scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing and carried her over to the bed. He laid her down and then moved behind her to spoon her, his arm holding her close to his chest. His lips brushed her ear. "Before you push me away, you have my word that once you're asleep, I'll go in the other room, okay?" ... Without moving, she whispered into the darkness, "What if I don't want you to go?

…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 am Cassandra—she who, without asking, understood it all and still came to her fate, I, Cassandra, full of visions, who sees her own death without turning away, and hears in the night the day that follows.

I believe in prophetic speech . . . still. I believe in Cassandra, I believe in Electra and in the charming Antigone. . . . For me, they’re more alive than the [Institute for] Intellectual Cooperation and its choice group of old men.

I can feel you watching me." Her breathy voice slid over him and felt like her fingers were running over his hard cock. How the fuck was her voice alone able to rule his dick?

I can feel you watching me." Her breathy voice slid over him and it felt like her fingers were running over his hard cock. How the fuck was her voice alone able to rule his dick?

I can’t help but ask, “Do you know where you are?” She turns to me with a foreboding glare. “Do you?

Icarus should have waited for nightfall, the moon would have never let him go.

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 conjure the boy I knew. Achilles, grinning as the figs blur in his hands. His green eyes laughing into mine. Catch, he says. Achilles, outlined against the sky, hanging from a branch over the river. The thick warmth of his sleepy breath against my ear. If you have to go, I will go with you. My fears forgotten in the golden harbor of his arms. The memories come, and come. She listens, staring into the grain of the stone. We are all there, goddess and mortal and the boy who was both.

I don't understand," Olivia said. "How did Penny sewing and unsewing make for the Trojan War?" "Penelope was Odysseus's wife," Philippa explained. "He left her, and she sat at her loom, sewing all day, and unraveling all her work at night. For years." "Why on earth would someone do that?" Olivia wrinkled her nose, selecting a sweet from a nearby tray. "Years? Really?" "She was waiting for him to come home," Penelope said, meeting Michael's gaze. There was something meaningful there, and he thought she might be speaking of more than the Greek myth. Did she wait for him at night? She'd told him not to touch her... she'd pushed him away... but tonight, if he went to her, would she accept him? Would she follow the path of her namesake? "I hope you have more exciting things to do when you are waiting for Michael to come home, Penny," Olivia teased. Penelope smiled, but there was something in her gaze that he did not like, something akin to sadness. He blamed himself for it. Before him, she was happier. Before him, she smiled and laughed and played games with her sisters without reminder of her unfortunate fate. He stood to meet her as she approached the settee. "I would never leave my Penelope for years." He said, "I would be too afraid that someone would snatch her away." His mother-in-law sighed audibly from across the room as his new sisters laughed. He lifted one of Penelope's hands in his and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. "Penelope and Odysseus were never my favored mythic couple, anyway. I was always more partial to Persephone and Hades." Penelope smiled at him, and the room was suddenly much much warmer. "You think they were a happier couple?" she asked, wry. He met her little smile, enjoying himself as he lowered his voice. "I think six months of feast is better than twenty years of famine." She blushed, and he resisted the urge to kiss her there, in the drawing room, hang propriety and ladies' delicate sensibilities.

Diana was the goddess of the hunt and of all newborn creatures. Women prayed to her for happiness in marriage and childbirth, but her strength was so great that even the warlike Amazons worshipped her. No man was worthy of her love, until powerful Orion won her affection. She was about to marry him, but her twin brother, Apollo, was angered that she had fallen in love. One day, Apollo saw Orion in the sea with only his head above the water. Apollo tricked Diana by challenging her to hit the mark bobbing in the distant sea. Diana shot her arrow with deadly aim. Later, the waves rolled dead Orion to shore. Lamenting her fatal blunder, Diana placed Orion in the starry sky. Every night, she would lift her torch in the dark to see her beloved. Her light gave comfort to all, and soon she became known as a goddess of the moon. It was whispered that if a girl-childwas born in the wilderness, delivered by the great goddess Diana, she would be known for her fierce protection of the innocent.

I dragged on my ruined life in darkness and grief, wrathful in my heart...

I have done it," she says. At first I do not understand. But then I see the tomb, and the marks she has made on the stone. A C H I L L E S, it reads. And beside it, P A T R O C L U S. "Go," she says. "He waits for you." In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.

I feel his body pressed against mine. His heat burns against my flesh; searing, seducing. Permanently making it his.

If I take off my clothes, I won’t stop there, and if I touch you, it’s over. Do you want me to claim you, princess?

If we're not naked soon, I'm going to lose my fucking mind.