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Mythology Quotes

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Mythology Quotes

“But in this story, as in so many others, what we really discern is the deceptive, ambiguous and giddy riddle of violence, passion, poetry and symbolism that lies at the heart of Greek myth and refuses to be solved. An algebra too unstable properly to be computed, it is human-shaped and god-shaped, not pure and mathematical. It is fun trying to interpret such symbols and narrative turns, but the substitutions don't quite work and the answers yielded are usually no clearer than those of an equivocating oracle.”

“I had not learned that peace galls men, how they gather impatient rage against it as it continues, how even while they pray the powers for peace, they work against it and make certain it will be broken and give way to battle, slaughter, rape, and wast. Of all the greater powers the one I fear the most is the one I cannot worship, the one who walks the boundary, the one who sets the ram on the ewe, and the bull on the heifer, the sword in the farmer's hand. . .”

“The superhero universe is a uniquely American mythology. It replaces the mythology America never had. Native Americans have a long history, but the world knows very little about that history. The fact that colonial America has no history – in the sense of a history stretching back thousands of years – is a fact that haunts the American psyche. The Americans are always in the business of filling that vacuum.”

“Someone pumps sentences into my brain, long-forgotten images from childhood; meaningless objects and conversations peel layers from my heart. I am again a river faun, paralyzed by longing for a river nymph. I walk through wolframic space, my mouth and nose threaded with wire, and whenever I deviate from my course, I feel a sharp pain in my jaws.”

“The modern world has lost the sexual excitement the ancients enjoyed, but this can be restored, by recreating the world of sacred sex, through ritual, and by escaping the anti-sex attitudes of Abrahamism which still contaminate every part of society. Moreover, Jungian psychology provides the means to understand the unconscious elements that featured everywhere in ancient mythology, and through this understanding we can all reach lucid sex, unlike the ancients, who never attained any authentic understanding of the unconscious forces operating on them, and most moderns who are just as clueless about psychology and the unconscious.”

“I was coming to understand that trials are a contest of stories. Basically, there are two opposing stories, very different from each other, that are in effect two artefacts obtained by combining the same elements—the mythemes—in different ways. Don’t hire a lawyer, hire a good writer. Because it’s not the truth that will win, but the person who tells the best story, the most coherent and believable one. In other words, the most mythological story, the one best able to fit the world view of the jurors.”

“Also I do not know who needs to fucking hear this. But the gods really can fucking manifest here. They choose to come here. They choose to change with the stories that are told about them. They choose to take the credit humans give them for things they aren't 100% of the time truly responsible for. They can perform miracles. They can shapeshift. They can take vessels. The fairy realm is a real fucking place outside the astral you can visit. These things are fucking real and have value and power and if you are on this path or stupid enough to disregard all that you are A, either going to get yourself killed or B, will never truly learn the secrets you’re meant to learn, rise as high as your meant to rise, or power yourself with what you can. If you are really so vein and stupid not to believe they are real or can do these types of things? How dare you call yourself a fucking witch.”

“I awaken myself to the greatest lesson Ireland offers: that I must wake up to whatever place I find myself, wake up to its seasons and weather, its heritage and special beauties, its ultimate and indisputable holiness. I have news for you: spring comes everywhere with sweetness and hope. Summer's fullness becomes harvest, then the world sleeps through a dark time. This is the only truth: that just as Ireland is sacred, so all land is sacred, as we are all sacred. This is my news.”

“He finally understood his mother’s choice, saving her comrades at the cost of her own life. He got what Mars had been trying to tell him – Duty. Sacrifice. They mean something. In Frank’s chest, a hard knot of anger and resentment –a lump of grief he’d been carrying since the funeral –finally began to dissolve. He understood why his mother never came home. Some things were worth dying for.”

“I’ve long had reservations about the emancipatory rhetoric of past eras, especially the kind that treats liberation as a one-time event or event horizon. Nostalgia for prior notions of liberation—many of which depend heavily upon mythologies of revelation, violent upheaval, revolutionary machismo, and teleological progress—often strikes me as not useful or worse in the face of certain present challenges, such as global warming.”

“It only takes about fifteen minutes for me to get totally lost. We’re somewhere in the outskirts of the property, but I’ve pushed us past the tree line too far to remember which way we came from. But I’m not going to admit it to her. I wrack my brain for any of Lady Artemis’s navigation skills. Unfortunately, almost all of them rely on the nighttime constellations, and I am not spending six hours out here with Atalanta.”

“Why do you try to get others to notice you, Adimar, when I’m the one who matters?” She stood up. “I’m the one who can fund your way to the top. I’ll help you overthrow the Lakotas and the Ghiblas. No more working for the Muslims. Christians won’t save you from other Christians. Your accounts are paid and closed.” “What are you?” “Your fucking guardian angel. Whatever. Now sit down. We need to talk.” As if something had clicked in his mind, “Get the fuck out of my apartment.” This was just a magic trick. A show. A test of loyalty. She cocked her head. “Really? I just handed you what you want on a silver platter and you’re kicking me out?” He raised his gun once more, coming to his senses. “Dude, that’s not going to work on me. Let me be upfront. I’m immortal.” “You’re no angel. Angels don’t help men like me.”

“Above, a vivid painting hung over the fireplace. Inside its frame, a woman was transforming into a tree. The lower half of her body was bark and roots, plunging into soil, while her waist and chest arched upwards and her outstretched hands reached for the sky. The nymph's dark hair was a knotted mass of branches around her head, sprouting bright green leaves. It was the myth of Daphne---the nymph who begged the river god to save her from Apollo and was turned into a laurel tree. "It must be a terrible thing to lose," Hawthorne said, making her jump. He looked up from where he crouched near the fire: to the woman in the frame. His left forearm was streaked with black ash. "What's a terrible thing to lose?" Hawthorne's eyes glittered as he studied the nymph. "Your humanity." "But it was her choice," said Emeline, feeling defensive of Daphne. If the river god hadn't turned her into a laurel, she would have fallen prey to Apollo. "She asked to be saved." Firelight flickered over Hawthorne's face as his gray-eyed gaze caught hers and held it. "Saved," he murmured, considering this. "Is that really what the river god did? As a tree, her life is forfeit. She'll never be human again. She'll never laugh or sing, ponder or love, again. Don't you think she would have preferred the river god defeat Apollo, or at the very least warn him away, instead of taking something so precious from her?”

“Most of the spiritual disciplines like Sufism tells us to follow the path within ourselves to reach God by saying “There is a (higher) Self within myself.” If I am going to search for God within me, isn’t it necessary that I have to know God’s clues, attributes, adjectives or characteristics? Do you know who your God is? What does He like and dislike? If you do not know the answers to these questions, how do you pray to your God?”

“The purpose of all sacred is to enhance the meaning in our lives. Jung also considers belief as an ontological phenomenon. This phenomenon symbolically participates in people’s world of meaning. When we say that a person is believing, we mean that s/he is awakening the dormant symbols, in other words, possibilities of ideas. The fact that one does not believe means that those symbols lose their vitality for that person and gaps in meanings occur in the mind of the contemporary human.”

“You may look at other beautiful Queens in your life doing their Queenly work with calm, confident efficiency and think you could never be like them… … And you won’t. Because the truth is, no one will rule your realm like you. Your crown will not be identical to the crown of other Queens. There has never been another Queen like you before and there never will be. You are uniquely qualified by the mountains you have climbed, caves you have explored, and the treasures you have discovered. But take heed, dear one, you can confidently acknowledge your strengths, talents, and gifts and be humble. You get to choose how you want to rule your realms.”

“A woman connected with her Wild Woman is one with the vibrations experienced from the energy of the earth as it slips between her toes. She spins rainbows with her mind and releases rain with her tears. She dances with the music of the wind in the trees and the rush of the water in a racing river. She howls like the she wolf under the full moon. The magic of her dreams moving forth from her and expanding like the galaxies of a trillion stars.”

“When we are disconnected from our deep healing, introspective power of our Wild Woman, our Knowing Self, and by default, our Divine Power, we become empty. We develop a spiritual hole where our Divine Self used to reside.”

“It's autumn," I said. "I can see the trees turning through the windows." He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "It's going to be the Day of the Dead soon," I said. "Sounds gruesome." "It's a festival." I looked at him over my shoulder. "The only one that gentry and peasants share. We celebrate Persephone going down to Hades for the winter, they remember Tom-a-Lone getting his head cut off by Nanny-Anna. Everybody makes grave offerings, then there's a great sacrifice to Hades and Persephone, and that night there's a bonfire and they burn a straw Tom-a-Lone dressed up in ribbons.”

“You grow up to believe that if you say, Please pass the salt, a person will reach toward the shaker, grab it in his hand, and move it in your direction. But then one day some of us might learn that it can happen that you can say, Please pass the salt, and a person will jam his hand into the mayonnaise jar and fling a fistful of it at your face. All at once, words don't mean what they're supposed to mean. I am a girl. My name is Io. I say no thanks, not me, stop please. But all at once, words do not matter. I do not matter.”