Quotes About Mythology

Monsters are a boon to gods. Imagine all the prayers.

She was a goddess of torment and understood the eloquence of violence.

She brought the whole urgent universe wherever she went, portents and angry deities and a thousand looming perils.

In our stories these divinities had to work by wheedling and flattery, by favors won from stronger gods. They could not do much themselves. Except live, forever.

He was no storyteller, as he had said, but that made it more enjoyable somehow, watching his serious face as he described flying horses and golden apples.

Circe was the first word he ever spoke, and the second was sister.

Among our bragging, ranting heroes, Peleus was the exception: a man of modesty.

I had not fooled myself with false hope. I was a goddess, and he was a mortal, and both of us were imprisoned. But I pressed his face into my mind, as seals are pressed in wax, so I could carry it with me.

The truce between the gods held only because Titans and Olympians each kept to their sphere.

When sculptors shape their stone, they shape it after him.

Would I be skimmed milk or a harpy? A foolish gull or a villainous monster?

He was beautiful - like a god, the poets would say.

I do not plan to tell her. Telegonus, these are gods. You must keep your tricks close or you will lose everything.

Gods pretend to be parents, but they are children, clapping their hands and shouting for more.

Beautiful Scylla, dainty-doe Scylla, Scylla with her viper heart. Why had she done such a thing? It was not love, I had seen the sneer in her eyes when she spoke

When I was a boy and everyone played at wrestling monsters like Heracles, I dreamed of being Daedalus instead. It seemed the greater genius to look at raw wood and iron, and imagine marvels.

I let the pebbles tumble to the ground from my fingers, where they lie, haphazard or purposeful, an augury or an accident. If Chiron were here, he could read them, tell us our fortunes. But he is not here. "What if he will not beg?" I ask. "Then he will die. They will all die. I will not fight until he does." His chin juts, bracing for reproach. I am worn out. My arm hurts where I cut it, and my skin feels coated with unwholesome sweat. I do not answer.

Prince Achilles! Aristos Achaion! As

I fucked a sacred bull, all right? Now get the thread.

And to the far north were a people who did not believe that Oceanos' river circled the earth, but instead it was a great girdling serpent, thick around as a boat and always hungry. It could never be still, for its appetite drove it ever onwards, devouring everything bite by bite, and one day when it had eaten all the world, it would devour itself.

I am only a nymph after all, for nothing is more common among us than this.

Wolves don't hunt singly, but always in pairs. The lone wolf was a myth.

Mary of Guise, whose emblem, or impresa, was the phoenix.

Her mother had amassed twelve sets of tapestries, one on the theme of the Twelve Labors of Hercules