Best 310 quotes in «goddess quotes» category

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.

Mother Earth Speaks: You live in my womb, learn from my seasons and grow old in my arms Listen to my heart I give you garments woven in gold I bless your arrival then let you fly free knowing forever we are one you and I

mysterious like the moon, she would delight you in her glow, her light alone can make you question yourself.. & who was she? She will never let you know.

Neither a light nor a dark lesson is more justified than the other, neither is more powerful, both equal in their opportunity to gift you new insight, new levels of compassion, and a new meaning to love.

Nera ... beautiful sun goddess, may I see you?" Ryzthar asked, his voice crackling with anticipation. "No," she replied. "Ione dressed me today and, for once, I am grateful. What brings a troubled king up so far? To catch sight of me naked?

NEVER BE SO BUSY BEING THE LIGHT FOR OTHERS THAT YOU NEGLECT TO SHINE ON YOURSELF

No holy book is more inspired than the other. They are all inspired according to their gods.

NEVER LIVE A LIE BECAUSE "THEY" WON'T ACCEPT YOUR TRUTH!

No one thinks to make the goddess a cup of tea; they just ply her with useless perfumed oils and impotent carved fetishes.

Now hear a new truth. The Great Mother Herself will be forced to hide from those who are coming. She will seem to disappear while they grow strong, but someday She will return. Although our children and their children, perhaps to the thousandth generation, must live in the new world that has forgotten Her, they must never forget. She will return.

No one should ever die alone. Rejoin the love of the goddess who made you. No longer a man, no longer a human, you must go as only your essence back to She who made you, into the womb of the Great Mother. You have again become a seed that will form into other lives in other lands.

Once you believe that god is not a private property of anybody, you are on your way to becoming a new messiah. Maybe your own if not the world's

Oh! Dione of Opalescent Skin Ethereal. Your oospheric containment disperses argentous streams of velvety rays that cradle recesses of soul in gossamer of beatific visions.La Luna! Your enigmatic smile. Your watery countenance stirs the imagination and bestows inspiration on those receptive to Your Sacred Gifts.

Of all the merfolk, Keeper loved Yemaya best. Goddess of the deep. Yemaya. If you gave her a gift, she might grant a wish.

Once you let them establish their ideology in you, they will drive you crazy

One man's faith is considered idolatry by another

Orion smiled and leaned back against the wall, letting his gaze drift down in thought. Helen stared at him for a few moments, just enjoying his company and the fact that he was there with her. No. Better than that. He was there for her.

Only Mother exists in this world. She is the Self of all. It is She whom you see with your eyes. She has become everything and everyone. To recognize this is to live in wonder.

Only the ones who run are worth catching.

Perhaps you would be better off finding some way to embrace your new nature, instead of fighting it.

Parvati has wrathful incarnations surely, As Durga, Kali, Shitala Devi, Tara, Chandi, She has benevolent forms like Katyayani, Kamalatmika, Bhuvaneshwari, Lalita, Gauri. Parvati as the Goddess of Power does be, Who source of all forms and of all beings be, In Her all the power but exists undoubtedly, And She who the destroys all fear clearly be. The apparent contradiction that Parvati be, The fair one, Gauri, and the dark one, Kali, Suggests the placid wife, can change fully, To her primal chaotic nature as powerful Kali.

Sharon, you have bewitched me, body and soul. I don't wish to be parted from you, from this day forward.

Religion should teach about hope to come for all, not terror for some

Rubbing noses with me, she laughed, and I swear the Elysian night sang with the sound of it.

She didn't need to be able to see through his chest to know how much he loved her. He was constantly proving it by how much of her crap he was willing to take.

Remember to take in and harvest light yet also allow yourself to cast shadows where needed, like a tree. Then, in return, your shadow will support your light.

Shani Chalisa ॥दोहा॥ Doha जय-जय श्री शनिदेव प्रभु, सुनहु विनय महराज। करहुं कृपा हे रवि तनय, राखहु जन की लाज॥ Shani Maharaj, glory to you with sincerity, Listen to my prayers I request humbly, Bestow your grace and protect me fully, Keep respect and honour of your devotees. - 341 -

She could stay invisible forever. She didn't completely understand her power, but she was beginning to understand who she was. Goddess, she thought, and her molecules formed a smile before she rode the breeze with arc-shaped leaps, like a dolphin, up and down toward home.

She falls back like a dead weight. The red hair loosens from the hair band and spreads in the colorful surface of the pillows, her white body is in sharp contrast, the gleam in her bloodshot eyes becomes intense and shines. My aunt, lying like this, looks like a goddess in an orgasm, only that, inside, she is suffering. I close my eyes and breathe deeply. The same is happening to us, we're really disappearing. I think of the matter of our bodies, changeable, disappearing in the particles of the air while we breathe. In this room, everywhere, we are printed on the walls, in the air that settles on things. I breathe and look at her. I'm stuck in her.

She held a scarlet sequin dress to her chest and posed in front of a mirror. Too hot. She put it back and took a black mini. Too dreary. Then a blue as pale as a whisper caught her eye. She took the dress. The material was silky and clinging. Perfect for a goddess. On the floor below the dress sat scrappy wraparound high-heeled sandals that matched the blue. She didn't understand why she needed to dress up to meet Stanton but the impulse to steal into the storage room had been rising in her since the sun set. She took the dress and sandals back to her room, then sat on the floor and painted her toenails and fingernails pale blue. She drew waves of eternal flames and spiral hearts in silver and blue around her ankles and up her legs with body paints. When she was done, she pressed a Q-tip into glitter eye shadow and spread sparkles on her lid and below her eye. With a sudden impulse she swirled the lines over her temple and into her hairline. She liked the look. She rolled blue mascara on her lashes, then brushed her hair and snapped crystals in the long blond strands. She squeezed glitter lotion into her palms and rubbed it on her shoulders and arms. Last she took the dress and stepped into it. She turned to the mirror on the closet door. A thrill ran through her. Her reflection astonished her. She looked otherworldly, a mystical creature... eyes large, skin glowing, eyelashes longer, thicker. Everything about her was more powerful and sleek and fairy tale. Surely this wasn't really happening. Maybe she would wake up and run to school and tell Catty about her crazy dreams. But another part of her knew this was real. She leaned to one side. The dress exposed too much thigh. "Good." Her audacity surprised her. Another time she would have changed her dress. But why should she?

She took down the framed manuscript from the kitchen wall. It was Kendra's prized possession, and part of her felt guilty for what she planned, but it had to be done. She carefully removed the parchment from its frame, then searched through the piles of translations and notes on the kitchen table. Finally she found the Secret Scroll on the chair where Kendra had been the night before. She carried both manuscripts upstairs and set them on her desk. Next she gathered paints and brushes and sat down. She studied the artwork on the Secret Scroll, then slowly began copying its rich patterns of gold, red, and blue onto Kendra's old manuscript. It was late afternoon when she finished. She studied her work. She had managed to copy the exotic birds and animals hidden in the foliage on the borders, and even the detailed picture of the goddess locking the jaws of hell. Her work was rough, but at a distance it would fool Toby or any of the Regulators, especially since they were afraid to touch it. Satisfied, she went to her closet. She searched through her clothes until she found the strapless top with the slit in the front. She slipped it over her head, then grabbed a silky black skirt and stepped into it. She carried her stiletto boots to the bed and tugged them on. At last she drew black liquid eyeliner over her top lid, added green glitter shadow, rolled thick mascara on her lashes, and brushed her hair. She added gloss to her lips and rubbed sparkle lotion over her arms and chest. Then she remembered the dragon stencils. Soon, she had a sinuous dragon adorning her thigh between the bottom of her skirt and the top of her boots. She liked the look. She turned in front of the full-length mirror behind the bathroom door. "Dynamite," she whispered. Her reflection thrilled her. She looked vamped-out and mystical. At once, she sensed the fierce power of the dragon rising in her. She felt like an invincible goddess-warrior.

She watched him for a long moment, an adorably annoyed frown wrinkling her forehead. "You're obnoxious when you're right.

Sometimes I think the moon is a goddess, watching us with her silver face, sighing when we cry, smiling when we sleep.

Smile at the Fates and you will feel less their Slave.

So many people throughout my life have told me who I am, what I must do, what I can't do, what I have to complete, and what I will never be able to accomplish...and then I met the Goddess. ~ Amythyst Raine-Hatayama

So many people throughout my life have told me who I am, what I must do, what I can't do, what I have to complete, and what I will never be able to accomplish...and then I met the Goddess.

teach us equality through empathy

Sometimes the hardest power to master is the power of yielding. -Hestia

Standing in the ring of fire, the eye of the storm, the vortex of pain and pressure is simultaneously the most vulnerable and most powerful place to be. Here we embody paradox. We stand our ground and surrender completely. Here we know the full power of the Feminine.

Tell me, as a pagan, who do you worship?' 'Worship?' 'That's right. I imagine you must have a pretty wide open field. So to whom do you set up your household altar? To whom do you bow down? To whom do you pray to at dawn and at dusk?' 'The female principle. It's an empowerment thing. You know.' 'Indeed. And this female principle of yours. Does she have a name?' 'She's the goddess within us all. She doesn't need a name.' 'Ah,' said Wednesday, with a wide monkey grin, 'so do you hold mighty bacchanals in her honour? Do you drink blood wine under the full moon, while scarlet candles burn in silver candle holders? Do you step naked into the seafoam, chanting ecstactically to your nameless goddess while the waves lick at your legs, lapping your thighs like the tongues of a thousand leopards?

Test.” Hades’ lovely mouth twisted bitterly around the word, as if he could read Helen’s thoughts and agreed with her. “If life is a test, then who do you think grades it?” “You?” she guessed.

So yes, I worship nature. I worship a blind Goddess. For me, she is the only worthy object of worship. She will never care that I worship her. She will never answer a single prayer. But she is always with me… shaping me as I shape her. I will struggle with her to the last gasp of my life. And in the end, in my final act of devotion, I will yield to her. - John Halstead, "I Worship the Blind Goddess

Take some time to get quiet, so you can hear your own soul whisper to you.

The Goddess ethos is: living for love, light, and legacy.

That night Serena dressed to meet Zahi. She used a metallic green eye shadow on the top lids and the outer half of the bottom lids so that her eyes looked like a jungle cat's. Two coats of black mascara completed them, and then she smudged a light gold gloss on her lips. She took a red skirt from the closet. The material was snakelike, shimmering black, then red. She slipped it on and tied the black strings of a matching bib halter around her neck and waist. She painted red-and-black glittering flames on her legs and rubbed glossy shine on her arms and chest. Finally, she took the necklace she had bought at the garage sale and fixed it in her hairline like the headache bands worn by flappers back in the 1920's. The jewels hung on her forehead, making her look like an exotic maharani. She sat at her dressing table and painted her toenails and fingernails gold, then looked in the mirror. A thrill jolted through her as it always did. No matter how many times she saw her reflection after the transformation, her image always astonished her. She looked supernatural, a spectral creature, green eyes large, skin glowing, eyelashes longer, thicker. Everything about her was more forceful and elegant- an enchantress goddess. She couldn't pull away from her reflection. It was as if the warrior in her had claimed the night.

The deep Feminine, the mystery of consciousness, She who is life, is longing for our transformation as much as we are. She holds back, allowing us free reign to choose, nudging us occasionally with synchronicities, illness, births and deaths… But when we make space for Her, she rushes into all the gaps, engulfing us with her desire for life and expression. This is what She longs for, this is what we are for: experiencing the Feminine through ourselves. We simply need to slow down, and find where to put our conscious attention. And it is this, this willingness to look again, this willingness to put consciousness onto our places of unconscious, to express what we have always avoided, which starts the process of unblocking, so that She may flow through.

The gods may have spoken, but Nature only bends to a goddess.

The Goddess is the macrocosmic and microcosmic anima, as put in place by Creator. Her existence became necessary in order to give form to Creator's thoughts and therefore ours as well.

... the effort to discover an authentic self, to strip away layers of alienation and culturally imposed identity and find a soul in a clear, unimpeded communion with the sacred is consonant with spiritual quests throughout the ages. Spiritual feminists, no less than medieval mystics, are searching in the ways made available to them through their culture to separate themselves from everything in their hearts and minds that puts them at odds with the divine plan (and therefore with their own best interests), and to find a true harmony between themselves and the universe.

The Goddess resides as comfortably in the circuits of a digital computer or the gears of a cycle transmission as she does at the top of a mountain or in the petals of a flower. To think otherwise is to demean the Goddess...which is to demean oneself.