mythology

Confidence is like a dragon where, for every head cut off, two more heads grow back.

You become mature when you become the authority of your own life.

The Bird of Hermes is my name, eating my wings to make me tame.

Memories of lost love they do enpain,Fleeting images of what once was never again to gain.Hold tight those memories that slip through the mind, To walk in those fields again with her__ dream divined.Oh to be with that lost Valkyrie forevermore again,To hold her hand delicate until the last world__ end.To be at peace once amore in deep loving soul,Husband to wife in embracing hold. How he loved her so, but she was now gone,Leaf to the wind, heart tossed and tumbled torn.Memories like arrows stick deep__hhh so deep,Shafts of pain and joy assail the soul__ lonely keep. --Angel-Heart, Ch. 22 Valley of the Damned

The Valkyrie__ heart was wrought of dazzling gold full of the most finest and firmest of loves, this being the secret of her many moods and akimbo inspirangular mercies. __n Kari, Ch. Fifteen Valley of the Damned

As she left the cold arena Angel had to laugh,Beaten by that of a wisp girl and her subliming cunning craft.__ove lay silent in his orbit; brooding, deep, dreamless forweep,And faithful dog Sirius rising tracked behind on dusk__ purpling adeep. Scratched he his chin; counted the cold and early evening stars,He had miles to go that night, they being so very far.Only the music of the wint__ing span,Vanished he away in the shimmering land. . . . . . .

There is no force in Earth or Heaven above,No, not even the damned of Hell can stop relentless Love. ---Kari, The Valkyrie, Chapter Sixteen,Valley of the Damned Epic Martial Poem/Allegory

Mythology is composed by poets out of their insights and realizations. Mythologies are not invented they are found. You can no more tell us what your dream is going to be tonight than we can invent a myth. Myths come from the mystical region of essential experience.

The images of Myth are reflections of Spiritual and Depth potentialities of every one of us. Through contemplating those we evoke those powers in our own lives to operate through ourselves.

A woman has her Juno, just as a man has his Genius; they are names for the sacred power, the divine spark we each of us have in us. My Juno can't "get into" me, it is already my deepest self. The poet was speaking of Juno as if it were a person, a woman, with likes and dislikes: a jealous woman.The world is sacred, of course, it is full of gods, numina, great powers and presences. We give some of them names--Mars of the fields and the war, Vesta the fire, Ceres the grain, Mother Tellus the earth, the Penates of the storehouse. The rivers, the springs. And in the storm cloud and the light is the great power called the father god. But they aren't people. They don't love and hate, they aren't for or against. They accept the worship due them, which augments their power, through which we live.

When you translate the Bible with excessive literalism, you demythologize it. The possibility of a convincing reference to the individual's own spiritual experience is lost. (111)

Myths, whether in written or visual form, serve a vital role of asking unanswerable questions and providing unquestionable answers. Most of us, most of the time, have a low tolerance for ambiguity and uncertainty. We want to reduce the cognitive dissonance of not knowing by filling the gaps with answers. Traditionally, religious myths have served that role, but today _ the age of science _ science fiction is our mythology.

Name one hero who was happy."I considered. Heracles went mad and killed his family; Theseus lost his bride and father; Jason's children and new wife were murdered by his old; Bellerophon killed the Chimera but was crippled by the fall from Pegasus' back."You can't." He was sitting up now, leaning forward."I can't.""I know. They never let you be famous AND happy." He lifted an eyebrow. "I'll tell you a secret.""Tell me." I loved it when he was like this."I'm going to be the first." He took my palm and held it to his. "Swear it.""Why me?""Because you're the reason. Swear it.""I swear it," I said, lost in the high color of his cheeks, the flame in his eyes."I swear it," he echoed.We sat like that a moment, hands touching. He grinned."I feel like I could eat the world raw.

Odysseus inclines his head. "True. But fame is a strange thing. Some men gain glory after they die, while others fade. What is admired in one generation is abhorred in another." He spread his broad hands. "We cannot say who will survive the holocaust of memory. Who knows?" He smiles. "Perhaps one day even I will be famous. Perhaps more famous than you.

What we're learning in our schools is not the wisdom of life. We're learning technologies, we're getting information. There's a curious reluctance on the part of faculties to indicate the life values of their subjects.

As the Promethean fire which banished Darkness, so Knowledge bears the Power and the Light.

Yet the great __hy?_ always at the center of the little __hats_ and __ows_ that makes religions into mythologies is often stronger in dead temples than in living.

But is the unicorn a falsehood? It's the sweetest of animals and a noble symbol. It stands for Christ and for chastity; it can be captured only by setting a virgin in the forest, so that the animal, catching her most chaste odor, will go and lay its head in her lap, offering itself as prey to the hunters' snares.""So it is said, Adso. But many tend to believe that it's a fable, an invention of the pagans.""What a disappointment," I said. "I would have liked to encounter one, crossing a wood. Otherwise what's the pleasure of crossing a wood?