mythology

There is at least one truth to every myth.

In every one of the Greeks' mythology tales, there is this: a man chasing a woman, or a woman chasing a man. There is never a meeting in the middle.

I stepped between him and the window so I was inches from his face. __here__ only one Ophi I__e ever been interested in._ I tugged on his arm, making him face me again. I reached up on my toes and pressed my lips against his. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to him. His kiss was hungry, like he didn__ want to let go. Finally, I pulled away, completely breathless. Alex just smiled, clearly impressed with himself.

Your reign of terror will soon be over,_ he stated confidently.

The love-goddess gestured to the fish of the lake below her and they gleefully gave up their scales to clothe her in a glimmering gown. The very ends of her toes dangled like cherries over the water as she drifted toward the beach. Even her pointed finger seemed a welcome sight. With a voice that sounded like the wind though roses, she whispered, __y boy . . .

micel walcan wolde we do from that daeg micel walcan in the great holt the brunnesweald but though we walced for wices months years though this holt becum ham to me for so long still we did not see efen a small part of it so great was this deop eald wud. so great was it that many things dwelt there what was not cnawan to man but only in tales and in dreams. wihts for sure the boar the wulf the fox efen the bera it was saed by sum made this holt their ham. col beorners and out laws was in here as they was in all wuds but deop deoper efen than this was the eald wihts what was in angland before menhere i is meanan the aelfs and the dweorgs and ents who is of the holt who is the treows them selfs. my grandfather he telt me he had seen an aelf at dusc one daeg he seen it flittan betweon stoccs of treows thynne it was and grene and its eages was great and blaec and had no loc of man in them. well he was blithe to lif after that for oft it is saed that to see an aelf is to die for they sceots their aelf straels at thu and aelfscot is a slow death

My reading and studying and retellings of old stories didn't do anything except help me think better. I was at least thoughtful. Too thoughtful, my friends said. And all I thought about was myths and old paintings that made me feel drunk on wine or struck my lightning but didn't matter to most people.

She quickly interpreted him into her mythology but if, at first, he was a herbivorous lion, later he became a unicorn devouring raw meat.

Then on the River I saw the dream-built ship of the god Yoharneth-Lehai, whose great prow lifted grey into the air above the River of Silence. Her timbers were olden dreams dreamed long ago, and poets' fancies made her tall, straight masts, and her rigging was wrought out of the people's hopes. Upon her deck were rowers with dream-made oars, and the rowers were the people of men's fancies, and princes of old story and people who had died, and people who had never been.

For centuries, pilgrims have travelled to Ayodhya identifying it as a birthplace of Ram. But the exact location is a subject of dispute and political turmoil. Ever since colonial times, Hinduism has felt under siege, forced to explain itself using European templates, make itself more tangible, more structured, more homogenous, more historical, more geographical, less psychological, less emotional, to render itself as valid as the major religions of the world like Christianity, Judaism and Islam. The fallout of this pressure is the need to locate matters of faith in a particular spot. What used to be once a matter of faith becomes a territorial war zone where courts have to intervene

Mythology is Fan Fiction - for the Gods.

If the Gospels were mythical themselves, they could not provide the knowledge that demythologizes mythology.

Humor is the touchstone of the truly mythological as distinct from the more literal-minded and sentimental theological mood.

The black thing in her brain and the dark water on the page were the same thing, a form of knowledge. This is how myths work. They are things, creatures, stories, inhabiting the mind. They cannot be explained and do not explain; they are neither creeds nor allegories. The black was now in the thin child__ head and was part of the way she took in every new thing she encountered.

I consider fantasy the heir of mythology, addressing a real human need to seek out answers to life__ many mysteries. It is a genre that can tell an entertaining and enthralling story on the surface, and yet deliver a potent message underneath, where everything becomes a symbol of something greater.

The mythology of freedom under capitalism for the average person is a con job.

Behold, my children!" she said. "The instrument of my revenge. I will call it a scythe!"The Titans muttered among themselves: What is that for? Why is it curved? How do you spell scythe?

Cecie keeps telling him she__ like to take him home some night, husband or no. The Minotaur waits hopefully. Husband or no.