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Mythology Quotes

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Mythology Quotes

“Comic book fans come in many forms - Some attend comicon, Some visit the vatican, Some visit vrindavan. Some bury head in the bible, Some bury head in das kapital. When pages of books are prioritized over humanity, world gets infested with sheeple. Mind begins in the wake of chains, Life begins in the wake of sect. A hundred hajj won't make you holy, If your heart is ever cold and dead.”

MythologyHumanistFundamentalismAgnosticReligious FreedomFreethinkerReligious ExtremismNonsectarianismNeurotheologyReligious Fanatics
Book:Dervis Vadisi: 100 Promissory Sonnets
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“...I cannot conceive that a day will come when science will be complete and achieved. There will always be new problems, and exactly at the same pace as science is able to solve problems which were deemed philosophical a dozen years or a century ago, so there will appear new problems which had not hitherto been not perceived as such.”

PhilosophyScienceMythologyAnthropology
Book:Myth and Meaning: Cracking the Code of Culture
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“He headed home through the streets of New Bedlam. It was the cleanest city in the Cosmos on the outside to disguise the flaws just under the surface. Like a corpse at the viewing, all makeup and formaldehyde. Under the streets were veins of sewers, rank with putrid blood and discarded bones from the nightclubs and luxury apartment buildings. Eros could feel the bloodlust pouring out of every doorway he passed, and he buttoned up his pea coat and quickened his pace. The desiderium of the city both tempted and disgusted him.”

FantasyMythMythologyNetherworlds
Book:The Netherworlds: Curse of Fate
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“The sunken gray sky seemed to be closing in on the ground. The edges of the world on which they stood crumbled into the abyss. They could hear it fracture around them like glaciers splintering off into the frigid deep. "What do you three want?" Eros asked with flippant annoyance. Loki chimed in, "We don't want any of your Girl Scout Cookies…" Eros closed his eyes and pressed his lips together. "-unless you have Samoas,” Loki amended.”

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Book:The Netherworlds: Curse of Fate
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“The Fey's Captive by Stewart Stafford Sprite music in moonlit sway, Her song turned azaleas grey, A haunting lilt that carried far; Charmed ear to shimmering star. Hornpipe down, melody went on, Lovelight flickered, then it shone, Claimed me then on yearly shore, Dragged me behind the fairy door. An enchanted hostage kept there, Gossamer glowed her flaxen hair, Made me pledge to be her slave, This regal man, reduced to knave. A year and a day passed, comet swift, My sentence over, her parting gift, Conditions met by kith and kin, Woke to bedroom light with a grin. © Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved”

FantasyMagicAdventureMythologyFairySupernaturalFairy TalesFolkloreAbductionAbducted
Author:Stewart Stafford
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“I landed on the roof of the hospital with a soft thud. The city was beautiful at night with all its lights on. Somewhere out there was Ryan, pacing the streets, hurt and angry, not understanding. I didn’t understand it, either. It was an abstract, somehow, a theory, this love. I loved everything. This city, my story, the Norns, Thor, Odin and the writer. I loved the einherjar, the battles, the books and my sisters. I loved it all to the point of my heart breaking. I loved it all for its beauty. So maybe I was capable of falling in love, after all. I was in love with the illusion. The stories intertwining underneath it all. In love with how it all came together to create an ongoing tale. In love with the fiction.”

LoveAdventureMythologyMetaphysicalMagical RealismValkyrie
Book:The End of Immortality
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“It’s funny,” Peter mused out loud. “With you, I feel like I am in this pocket in the world. As if nothing can reach us here. We have this little place to ourselves. When we are here, we are all there is. Just you and me, our little chosen world in the world with nothing to disturb us.” I pulled the fleece blanket tighter to me. The fire had nearly died out and a chill crept into the air. I looked longingly at my clothes scattered on the floor and table but I was too lazy to reach for it. Peter turned his face and looked at me, as I lay nuzzled close with my head on his arm. “Just a story,” I offered. “Yes,” he nodded. “Just a story.”

LoveMythologyMetaphysicalMagical RealismValkyrie
Book:The End of Immortality
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“Even now, after all this time, I remember the heavy scent of smoke and mead in the air. I remember the glints from the hundreds of golden shields on the walls and the ceiling. I remember the look of pride in my father’s eyes looking across the einherjar. I remember the rush of voices when Thor came once in a while and walked through the hall, Mjolnir hanging from his belt and his wealth of red hair lighting up the gloom like another coal burner. And this is my story. I, who have lived across time and space. I, who have jumped worlds and turned back on my choices. I, who gave up one identity for another. I understand now why I chose as I did. It wasn’t a random act or even an unknowing one. I had it all figured out all along. I knew where I was going and I chose every step of the way. The most common mistake is asking: “Why? Why did this happen to me? Why is it this way? Why can’t it be otherwise?” The problem isn’t the why. The problem is that it is turned outwards. Instead, ask: Why did I choose this? The answer will always be: Because this is how I get my thrills. Always. It all comes down to how you want your story to be.”

LoveMythologyMetaphysicalMagical RealismValkyrie
Book:The End of Immortality
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“There is no perfect trinity, for three connotes competition. Power struggles. Favoritism and loneliness. We were almost not a trio; although now that she is gone, neither of us feels like a duo. We are not twins, nor will we ever be. Our third was the center, and when we lost her, we also failed each other, collapsing inward upon ourselves. A broken triplet. Thrice blessed. Thrice cursed.”

FamilyMythologyGreek MythologyMedusaEuryaleStheno
Author:Lauren J.A. Bear
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“I despised my father, of course I did. The thought of presenting myself to him, of him thinking that my deeds could reflect on him was repulsive, that he thought what I would do would be a substitute for the son he'd never had, that he imagined that I would go back and take that place. I flung the thin woolen blankets aside, thinking I would set out into the darkness, out run my anger until I was gasping and breathless. But somehow, my feet took me to Parthenopaeus..”

MythologyGreek MythologyAtalanta
Book:Atalanta
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“When Poseidon pinned her To the temple stones, her voice Flared like pyre-wood, Faded like smoke. ‘As Perseus bore down upon her She bestrode the pitted ground; The snakes that writhed from her head Cried mercy of the clouds. ‘From her neck, Pegasus sprang – The white horse spread his wings, And bore her name through Greece Swooping to Cretan shores. ‘Her blood birthed the corals Of the Red Sea – sharp as tongues. O Hera, grant Medusa Her legacy: woman, monster, might!”

PoetryMythologyPoetry QuotesGreek MythologyMedusa
Book:Orphia and Eurydicius
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“I was the victim of both social orders: of Apollo’s waxing patriarchy, & of Clytemnestra’s last spasms of outraged matriarchy. My father Priam probably would have said: that I had asked for it. That no society could be expected to tolerate an individual who insisted on telling the truth.”

TruthFeminismIdentityMythologyProphecyGender RolesCassandra
Book:The Autobiography of Cassandra, Princess & Prophetess of Troy
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“So I was hard on the Beast, win or lose, When I got upstairs, those tragic girls in my head, Turfing him out of bed; standing alone On the balcony, the night so cold I could taste the stars On the tip of my tongue. And I made a prayer – Thumbing my pearls, the tears of Mary, one by one, Like a rosary – words for the lost, the captive beautiful, The wives, those less fortunate than we. The moon was a hand-mirror breathed on by a Queen. My breath was a chiffon scarf for an elegant ghost. I turned to go back inside. Bring me the Beast for the night. Bring me the wine-cellar key. Let the less-loving one be me. - an excerpt from Mrs. Beast -”

PoetryFeminismMythology
Book:The World's Wife
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“She came anyway, but this time, she brought a wedding gift with her. A wedding gift that would kick off the Trojan War. Eris, the goddess of Discord, wasn't invited to the wedding of Peleus and Thetis. Not to be deterred, she came anyway, and she brought something with her. What she brought with her was a golden apple that had the words, "...to the fairest" engraved on it. And the three goddesses - Aphrodite, Athena and Hera - began fighting each other over it...and that's how the Trojan War started. It's also how Rome was founded, as the story goes.”

LoveWarMythologyRomeSocial PsychologyAthenaAphroditeHeraTrojan War
Author:Michael Jagdeo
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“Part certificate of birth, part medical records, part court-evaluated mental health status, and almost entirely badge of shame, other-born papers stated the nature of their powers and their known relatives. Other-born always came in a packageL in two or three or more siblings descended from sibling gods. Myths talked of the existence of other gods, too, but only twin, sister, or brother divinities bestowed their progenies with power. Some believed the power was too much for a single person to inherit, but Thais disagreed. Multitude is power, she used to say, We are stronger together.”

PowerMythologyWorld Building
Book:Threads That Bind
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“The medieval and Renaissance Christians feared her because she was seen as a sexual being and therefore as a different kind of threat from other monsters. (...) The Romantics pitied her and feminists have celebrated her because she was a victim, even a once beautiful victim. (...) Medusa attracts our attention, in short, not only because of her hideous deformities, but also because as a mortal, as a sexual being and as a victim, she was human: one of us.”

HistoryMythology
Book:Medusa: In the Mirror of Time
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“To his foreign guests, Vasiṣṭha said: “You have entered a place where amazement is vain. Everything is normal here. There are fathers who are sons of their sons or sons who are fathers of their fathers and their sisters, who are their lovers and wives too. Here the latter-day priest is also among the first of the gods. Here the monster is an ascetic and the ascetics fight the monsters.”

Mythology
Book:Ka: Stories of the Mind and Gods of India
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“Faith and mythology, in their profoundest sense, are the twin pillars that uphold the vast cathedral of human consciousness. They are the intertwined roots that nourish our understanding of existence, grounding us in the fertile soil of the unknown. Faith, is the audacious whisper in the heart of man, defying the chasm of uncertainty with its unwavering resonance. It is the audacity to trust in the unseen, to hear the unspoken, and to pursue the uncharted. It is the flame that illuminates the caverns of our deepest fears, casting shadows on our doubts, and lighting the path to our truest selves. Meanwhile, mythology is the grand tapestry we weave to contain the boundless cosmos within the finite landscapes of our minds. It is the narrative thread that stitches together the fabric of our collective consciousness, painting vibrant portraits of gods and monsters, of heroes and villains, of creation and destruction. Mythology gives form to faith, translating the abstract into the tangible, the divine into the comprehensible, the eternal into the temporal. It is the language of symbols, narrating the timeless tales of the human spirit dancing with the cosmos' infinite possibilities. Yet, both faith and mythology are but reflections in the mirror of existence, shimmering illusions that hint at a reality far beyond our comprehension. They are the echoes of the universe whispering its secrets to those daring enough to listen, the gentle lullabies that soothe our existential anxieties, the sweet honey that makes the bitter pill of the unknown more palatable. They are not the ultimate answers to life's mysteries, but the beautiful questions that keep us seeking, exploring, and wondering. They are the compass and the map, guiding us on our endless quest for truth, reminding us that the journey, not the destination, is the essence of existence.”

InspirationalSpiritualityMythologyCreative WritingFolklore
Author:D.L.Lewis
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“In the grand tapestry of existence, we are faced with a profound choice: to believe in God or reduce ourselves to mere dust. Yet, in this choice lies the very essence of our potential and purpose. God, the eternal enigma, represents the boundless mysteries that surround us, the cosmic symphony of order and chaos. To believe in God is to embrace the unfathomable depths of our existence, to recognize the awe-inspiring beauty in every breath, and to find solace in the face of adversity. It is to acknowledge that we are part of something greater, intricately connected to the divine fabric of creation. On the other hand, to resign ourselves to dust is to surrender our capacity for wonder and curiosity. It is to reduce the majesty of life to a mere collection of atoms, devoid of meaning or significance. In the realm of dust, there is no purpose, no guiding light to illuminate our path, only the relentless march of time eroding all that we hold dear. But let us not forget that the choice between God and dust is not a binary one. It is a spectrum that spans the vast landscape of human belief and understanding. Some find solace in the embrace of a divine being, while others seek meaning in the interconnectedness of all things. And there are those who find their own truth, crafting a personal philosophy that resonates with their soul. Ultimately, whether we believe in God or embrace our dusty origins, let us remember that it is our capacity for reflection, compassion, and growth that defines us as sentient beings. It is through the pursuit of wisdom and the cultivation of love that we find the true essence of our existence, transcending the limitations of belief or disbelief. So, let us choose wisely, for in the contemplation of God or dust, we shape not only our own destiny but also the destiny of humanity itself. May we find the courage to explore the depths of our beliefs and the humility to appreciate the vastness of the unknown. And in doing so, may we discover the profound beauty that lies within the delicate balance between faith and reason.”

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Author:D.L. Lewis
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“Oil Painting, Painted By an Unknown Artist, Describing Sadness, Regret, and Defeat. ''..She felt like a character in a no-name oil painting, drawn by an unknown artist, describing sadness, regret and defeat. She pictured that painting in her mind, and this time lay down on her bed as if taking her place in that painting. It was not strange for her that a character that had been out of place for a long time was now re-entering there. On the contrary, by inhaling the scent of oil painting, Melisa plunged into resignation, as if she had found her place and even what she deserved...' A Quote from Angel Diarys -Babylonian Spell”

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Author:Arzu Gokyolcu
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“Например последният епизод. Кандидатът бе висок мъж с побелели коси. Професор по история, с благородна осанка и стилно облечен. И емблемата бе много красива, нещо като рицарски герб: череп на бик в мрежа върху фон на райета. Той каза, че лабиринтът символизира мозъка. Отвореният мозък и класическият лабиринт много си приличат. Минотавъра е животинската част на ума, а Тезей — човешката. Животинската част, разбира се, е по-силна, но в края на краищата побеждава човешката и в това е смисълът на еволюцията и историята. В самия център на лабиринта е разположен кръст, който символизира пресечната точка на животинското и човешкото начало. Именно там се намира проходът на посвещението, където Тезей среща и побеждава врага си. Единствено в себе си можеш да победиш Минотавъра, каза той. Ние сме длъжни безжалостно да удушим гадината и тогава с пълно морално право можем да преименуваме Шлема на ужаса в Шлем на цивилизацията и прогреса.”

MythologyMythology Philosophy
Book:The Helmet of Horror: The Myth of Theseus and the Minotaur
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“The Atlantean Road by Stewart Stafford A snake of stones beneath the waters Soldiers march past spectral daughters Phantom travellers To work or home Atlantean lives replay in foam The water drowned out extinct times Of joy and war Of love and crime The divers rapt by sound immemorial Echoes entombed Sweet voices choral The flame of Erasmus and barking sounds Of canine guards and strangers found The road roused from silent sleep To tell explorers how ancients weep © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

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Author:Stewart Stafford
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