Quotes About Mythology

We spray our fantasies on the landscape like a dog sprays urine. It turns it into ours. Once we've invented our gods and demons, we can propitiate or exorcize them. Once we've put fairies in the sinister solitary thorn tree, we can decide where we stand in relation to it; we can hang ribbons on it, see visions under it—or bulldoze it up and call ourselves free of superstition.

You know, I never imagined there were he-dryads. Not even in an oak tree. One of the giants grinned at him. Druellae snorted. Stupid! Where do you think acorns come from?

Contrary to popular belief, the wings of demons are the same as the wings of angels, although they're often better groomed.

The gods had a habit of going round to atheists' houses and smashing their windows.

Don't put your faith in gods. But you can believe in turtles.

Wizards don't believe in gods. They didn't deny their existence, of course. They just didn't believe. It was nothing personal; they weren't actually rude about it. Gods were a visible part of narrativium that made things work, that gave the world its purpose. It was just that they were best avoided close up.

He thought of the deep crevasses and windy caves of Underlay, and the stories of the creatures that dwelt there. Of course, he didn't believe in them. He'd told them, because the handing on of an oral mythology was very important to a developing culture, but he didn't believe in supernatural monsters. He shivered. He hoped they didn't believe in him.

Well, these guys believe that if you die in battle, some big fat singing horned women carry you off to a sort of giant feast hall where you gobble yourself silly for the rest of eternity, said the rave. It belched genteeley. Damn stupid idea, really. But it just happened! Still a daft idea.

The Greek goddess Artemis, whose name means bear , embodies the wisdom of the wild. Christine Downing, in her book The Goddess: Mythological Images of the Feminine , describes her as 'the one who knows each tree by its bark or leaf or fruit, each beast by its footprint or spoor, each bird by its plumage or call or nest.

Every culture has its own ideas of what the Devil looks like. There's only one thing that almost all cultures, dating back to the most primitive tribes, agree on: the Devil actually exists.

O Muse, tell me the story Of all these things, O Goddess, daughter of Zeus Beginning wherever you wish, tell even us.

'The Grace of Kings' was meant to read like a set of legends about characters who were bigger than life.

The story of Ulysses and Agamemnon and Menelaus, of Jesus, of the Good Knight of Chaucer, lives in every one of us.

I think they went with the idea that people know the story pretty much- knowing that he's going to take her when she's going to go with him. Also, the movie is really focused on Achilles and Hector and their battles.

Mythology and science both extend the scope of human beings. Like science and technology, mythology, as we shall see, is not about opting out of this world, but about enabling us to live more intensely within it.

Oh yes. I was telling you about my research into the old Norse sagas- the mythology of ancient Scandinavia. Have you read them?" "Uh no." "You'd like them, Cassie." He waved the hand with the chalk in it. "All sex and violence." I frowned. "Why would you think that I'd-

Olofi made Oya . . . and then he realized he'd done and quickly made Oshun.

Mother Astarte who creates and destroys. Kybele, goddess of all that is, was, and ever shall be," he invoked.

Some call its twins berries the testicles of Uranus

There are legends. You used to be one." She says coolly, "I am legend.

I ran faster than a demon from Hell breaking out with Cerberus snapping at its heels.

tiny mortals tampering with chariots of the gods.

Don't look back, you asshole! he thought. Good advice, from Orpheus to Lot.

A single note, held in an amber suspension of time, like a charcoal drawing of Icarus falling. It was sad and fierce all at once, alive with a lonely purity. It went on and on, until my own lungs were burning. "What bird are you calling?" I asked finally, when I couldn't stand it any longer. The Bird Man stopped whistling. He grinned, so that I could see all his pebbly teeth. "You.