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Quote by Peter Grey

“It is not the myth that falls out of date, it is the way of wording it. New voices are endlessly needed to swell their throats with song. Poetry is the unbroken lineage.”

Quote by Peter Grey

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Apocalyptic Witchcraft

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Peter Grey

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“The forest itself has different names in different tongues — Westermain, Arden, Birnam, Broceliande; and in places there are separate trees named, such as that on the outskirts against which a young Northern poet saw a spectral wanderer leaning, or, in the unexplored centre of which only rumours reach even poetry, Igdrasil of one myth, or the Trees of Knowledge and Life of another. So that indeed the whole earth seems to become this one enormous forest, and our longest and most stable civilizations are only clearings in the midst of it.”

“الفانتازيا هي أقدم نوع قصصي عرفه الإنسان، فهي تعد جزء من اللاوعي الجمعي للجنس البشري، وقد امتلأت مخيلة الإنسان البدائي بحكايات عن الآلهة والبشر والسحرة والتنانين والوحوش الخيالية والأسطورية، كما أنهم وضعوا تفسيرات أسطورية للظواهر الطبيعية الغامضة التي وقف الإنسان البدائي حائرًا أمامها، مثل البرق: فهو مطرقة ثور عند الإسكندنافيين، وهو أسهم زيوس عند الإغريق.”

“Connecting the great universal myths of cataclysm, is it possible that such coincidences that cannot be coincidences, and accidents that cannot be accidents, could denote the global influence of an ancient, though as yet unidentified, guiding hand? If so, could it be that same hand, during and after the last Ice Age, which drew the series of highly accurate and technically advanced world maps reviewed in Part I? And might not that same hand have left its ghostly fingerprints on another body of universal myths? those concerning the death and resurrection of gods, and great trees around which the earth and heavens turn, and whirlpools, and churns, and drills, and other similar revolving, grinding contrivances?”

“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.”