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Mythology Quotes

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Mythology Quotes

“Hüseyin Gazi, peygamber soyundan bir kişidir. Malatya'ya yerleşmiş ve Malatya'nın önde gelen kişilerindendir. Bir oğlu vardır ve adı Cafer'dir. Hüseyin Gazi, bir av esnasında Rum beylerinden Mihriyayil tarafından hileyle öldürülür. Cafer genç bir delikanlıyken babasının katillerini öldürür ve serasker olur. Bundan sonra Kayser ordularıyla yapılan iki savaşta üstün başarılar gösterir ve Malatya beylerinin güvenini kazanır. Kayser, Ahmer komutasındaki bir başka orduyu Malatya üzerine gönderir. Cafer, Ahmer'le yaptığı ferdi mücadeleyi kazanır. Bunun üzerine Ahmer, Müslüman olur. Kendisine Cafer tarafından "Ahmet" ismi verilir. Ahmet de Cafer'e "Battal" ismini verir.”

“Our book is not for the learned, nor for the theologian, nor for the philosopher, but for the reader of English literature, of either sex, who wishes to comprehend the allusions so frequently made by public speakers, lecturers, essayists, and poets, and those which occur in polite conversation. We trust our young readers will find it a source of entertainment; those more advanced, a useful companion in their reading; those who travel, and visit museums and galleries of art, an interpreter of paintings and sculptures; those who mingle in cultivated society, a key to allusions which are occasionally made; and last of all, those in advanced life, pleasure in retracing a path of literature which leads them back to the days of their childhood and revives at every step the associations of the morning of life.”

“We have to be prepared to allow a myth to change us forever. Together with the rituals that break down the barrier between the listener and the story, and which help him to make it his own, a mythical narrative is designed to push us beyond the safe certainties of the familiar world into the unknown. Reading a myth without the transforming ritual that goes with it is as incomplete an experience as simply reading the lyrics of an opera without the music. Unless it is encountered as part of a process of regeneration, of death and rebirth, mythology makes no sense.”

“I fear,' replied the mother of mankind. 'I fear now to beget the female race. If a father can endanger his own daughter, who shall keep them safe? Who shall heal them if everybody wounds them? ' He remained silent but she trembled. 'I fear now. I fear now to give them beauty for men might disrobe them. I fear now to give them wisdom for men might degrade them. I fear now to give them choices for men might disown them. I fear now to give them power for men might destroy them.' She moved away from him. 'I fear, Manu. I fear.”

“When Athens loses its hold on its empire, Hera still sees Athena: a grey-feathered owl tilting its head in the town square where men debate philosophy and rationality, striving for sense and understanding; or else a flash of silver in the eyes of someone stacking another roll of papyrus in the public library, the teacher calling his students to lessons, or the woman demonstrating how the loom works to her attentive daughter. At the lush, rolling vineyards, she sometimes thinks she spots the laughing eyes of Dionysus in a jovial winemaker selling his wares. In the forests, she's convinced she catches a flash of Artemis, running in pursuit of a stag, or else she recognises her determined jawline in a defiant girl. In smoky forges, where blacksmiths wipe the sweat from their brows, she feels the patience of Hephaestus; and she is certain that Ares still runs wild on the battlefields, filling every fighter's heart with his destructive rage. Hestia is there, of course, in every kindly friend, at every welcoming hearth. She wonders where they see her - in rebellious wives, she hopes, in the iron souls of powerful queens, in resilient girls who find the strength to keep going.”

“Heracles was the strongest man who ever lived. No human, and almost no immortal creature, ever subdued him physically. With uncomplaining patience he bore the trials and catastrophes that were heaped upon him in his turbulent lifetime. With his strength came, as we have seen, a clumsiness which, allied to his apocalyptic bursts of temper, could cause death or injury to anyone who got in the way. Where others were cunning and clever, he was direct and simple. Where they planned ahead he blundered in, swinging his club and roaring like a bull. Mostly these shortcomings were more endearing than alienating. He was not, as the duping Atlas and the manipulation of Hades showed, entirely without that quality of sense, gumption and practical imagination that the Greeks called 'nous'. He possessed saving graces that more than made up for his exasperating faults. His sympathy for others and willingness to help those in distress was bottomless, as were the sorrow and shame that overcame him when he made mistakes and people got hurt. He proved himself prepared to sacrifice his own happiness for years at a stretch in order to make amends for the (usually unintentional) harm he caused. His childishness, therefore, was offset by a childlike lack of guile or pretence as well as a quality that is often overlooked when we catalogue the virtues: fortitude -the capacity to endure without complaint. For all his life he was persecuted, plagued and tormented by a cruel, malicious and remorseless deity pursuing a vendetta which punished him for a crime for which he could be in no way held responsible- his birth. No labour was more Heraclean than the labour of being Heracles. In his uncomplaining life of pain and persistence, in his compassion and desire to do the right thing, he showed, as the American classicist and mythographer Edith Hamilton put it, 'greatness of soul'. Heracles may not have possessed the pert agility and charm of Perseus and Bellerophon, the intellect of Oedipus, the talent for leadership of Jason or the wit and imagination of Theseus, but he had a feeling heart that was stronger and warmer than any of theirs.”

“...the Sibyl, Resisting possession, storms through the cavern, In the throes of her struggle with Phoebus Apollo. But the more she froths at the mouth And contorts, the more he controls her, commands her And makes her his creature. Then of their own accord Those hundred vast tunnel-mouths gape and give vent To the prophetess's responses...”

“Then was the keeper of the barrow swollen with wrath, purposing, fell beast, with fire to avenge his precious drinking-vessel. Now was the day faded to the serpent's joy. No longer would he tarry on the mountain-side, but went blazing forth, sped with fire. Terrible for the people in that land was the beginning (of that war), even as the swift and bitter came its end upon their lord and patron. Now the invader did begin to spew forth glowing fires and set ablaze the shining halls -- the light of the burning leapt forth to the woe of men.”

“Legends and mythology have always played a vital role in shaping the identity and cultural heritage of civilizations. The Klassikan Empire is no exception, as it is steeped in a rich tapestry of mythical tales and folklore that have been passed down through generations.”

“In truth we have been so preoccupied with the outer aspects of mythology that we have failed to realize that it is the inner, the subjective, dimension of mythology that is the potent healing place in each individual. The journey, once told, is what we take mythology to be. But the myth came forth spontaneously in a human being before it ever became a story told. And it came forth for the purposes of healing and growing that individual; it was a specific, unique, personal experience." . . . By developing an open and direct relationship with our deep imagination, we open ourselves to that wisdom that dwells in aliveness itself. The deep imagination carries within itself the potential of all experience. Not just the experience of this short lifetime that we take to be our own, individually, but the experience of that entire path that aliveness has traversed from the very beginning, from the origin of life itself." - Eligio Stephen Gallegos, PhD, Into Wholeness: The Path of Deep Imagery”

“तीनेक हजार वर्षापूर्वी तुम्हा हिंदूप्रमाणेच आमचेही अनेक देव होते. त्यांचं वागणं खूपसं मानवासारखं होतं. ते रागवा- रुसायचे. संतुष्ट होऊन आशीर्वाद द्यायचे. ते इथंच माउंट ऑलिम्पसवर राहायचे तरी तिथून खाली उतरून आपण वावरतो तसेच ते लोकांमधे मिसळायचे. खाय-प्यायचे. त्यानंतर आलेल्या गंभीर प्रकृतीच्या किहॅनिटीनं ते बदलून टाकलं. पण मूळची भाषा, देव, तत्त्वज्ञान, कला-कल्पना आणि प्रवृत्ती यांचा कायमचा ठसा आमच्यावरच नव्हे तर सबंध पाश्चिमात्य संस्कृतीवर उमटलेला आहे. भाषेचंच बघ ना. नुसतं इंग्लिश पाहिलं तरी त्यातले वीस टक्के शब्द ग्रीक आहेत किंवा ग्रीकवरून आलेले आहेत.”

“The Old English word is wyrd, which most glossaries and dictionaries translate as ‘fate’. Tolkien knew that the etymologies of the two words were quite different, ‘fate’ coming from the Latin fari, ‘to speak’, so ‘that which has been spoken’, sc. by the gods. The Old English word derives from weorÞan, ‘to become’: it means ‘what has become, what’s over’, so among other things, ‘history’ – a historian is a wyrdwritere, a writer-down of wyrd.”

“One must seriously doubt the story that Prometheus did not expect the vulture. It is far more likely, according to modern psychology, that it was entirely for the purpose of being pecked in the liver that he stole the fire of heaven. He was a masochist; masochism, like eye coloring, is an inborn trait and nothing to be ashamed of; one should matter-of-factly indulge it and utilize it for the good of society.”

“Maelstrom Rock by Stewart Stafford O, obsidian jagged island, This playground of the gods, Distant white novice waves, In warhorse slam into rock. Be this witchcraft or wit's raft? Conducting the vast elements, With lava-hot passion mustered, Spinning whirlpool shipwreck tales. A walker between the winds comes, Both Nature and shaman within it, Of coral and shell and weed growth, Compassion at flaying whip's end. Bid goodbye to the demi-paradise! On the gloomy prow, watch it flee, An aria's dreams of magic ebbing, Freed thralls clasp earthly chains. © Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.”