Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Eurydice. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Eurydice Quotes And Sayings by 87 Authors including Alfred Lord Tennyson,William Shakespeare,Henry James,Edmund Spenser,Kiera Cass for you to enjoy and share.
Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls.
TITUS. Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds!
Fancy me between Scylla and Charybdis.
So Orpheus did for his owne bride,
So I unto my selfe alone will sing,
The woods shall to me answer and my Eccho ring.
Our lovely Princess Eadlyn,
It's hard to rhyme your name.
And though we really ticked you off,
We love you all the same.
Periplus of the Erythrean Sea, written
At that time the archiepiscopal throne of Alexandria was filled by Theophilus, the perpetual enemy of peace and virtue; a bold, bad man, whose hands were alternately polluted with gold and with blood.
Lady of the Mere, Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.
The name Cleopatra wakens the world to life.
A man may rule his household,
And a King govern his land,
But Death walks in the thrall of Cephrael's Hand.
Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts- O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power So to seduce!
HONORINE BEATRIX
Haste to thie kiste, thie onlie dortoure bedde.Cale, as the claie whiche will gre on thie hedde,Is Charitie and Love aminge highe elves;Knightis and Barons live for pleasure and themselves.
Sybil, vulgarity is no substitute for wit.
Lysandra Barbas, please meet Princess Cleiona Bellos.
Atalanta in Calydon
Come, tears, confound,' he cried. 'Out, sword, and wound the left breast of Pyramus. Ay, that left breast where his heart doth hop.
The myth is not my own; I have it from my mother. Euripides
Ariadne in the labyrinth. The most alive of worlds, human beings with the tenderest flesh, are made of marble. I strew devastation as I pass. I wander dead-eyed through cities and petrified populations.
. . . Orpheus struck dumb with hindsight.
The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle that's curded by the frost from purest snow.
How could you betray me, Incarceron? How could you let me fall? I thought I was your son. It seems I am your fool. - Songs of Sapphique
Nothing but beauty and douceur
There were many beautiful vipers in those days and she was one of them. ("Eveline's Visitant")
I should fear the infinite power and inflexible justice of the almighty mortal hardly as yet apotheosized, so wholly masculine, with no sister Juno, no Apollo, no Venus, nor Minerva, to intercede for me, thumoi phileousa te, kedomene te.
For thogh we slepe, or wake, or rome, or ryde, Ay fleeth the tyme; it nyl no man abyde.
What fools these mortals be. (Acheron)
I had said goodbye to her once before, but it took everything I had to say goodbye to her then, again, for the last time, like poor Orpheus turning for a last backward glance at the ghost of his only love and in the same heartbeat losing her forever: hinc illae lacrimae, hence those tears.
A virtuous esculent!
My rich Diana. Fly me to the moon with you. Dance among the stars.
Treacle. Romantic hogwash. Derivative. Unworthy.
My rich Diana. I hate you, hate you, hate you. Hate you, hate.
"Do it," he said.
What I like so much about Corot is that he can say everything with a bit of tree; and it was Corot himself that I found in the museum of Naples - in the simplicity of the work of Pompeii and the Egyptians. These priestesses in their silver-grey tunics are just like Corot's nymphs.
Wise Penelope! That's was Odysseus said to his wife when he got home. I don't think he ever told her he loved her. He probably knew the words would sound too small.
what Cremica can make even Britannia and Parle cannot make!
Little princess, lovely as the dawn, well named Aurore.
The Dionysian is no picnic.
Into the paradise of euphony, the good poet must introduce hell. Broken paradises are the only kind worth reading.
Aedion - every breath she took seemed to echo his name. Aedion, Aedion, Aedion.
THOMASINA:
But then the Egyptian noodle made carnal embrace with the enemy who burned the great library of Alexandria without so much as a fine for all that is overdue!
Come, my Lady Dangerous, your Daimons await. (Valerius)
Come near; I would, before my time to go,
Sing of old Eire and the ancient ways:
Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days.
Effie Seabright, we've been fated to meet you for a long time.
In Euripedes's The Bacchae...Dionysus dispenses food, drink and comfort, and inspires communal energy, song and dance; he is rapture and rage, illumination and blindness.
In every garden grows one single rose so perfect that once the frost takes it, no other can grow there again. My rose is and will ever be my Edilyn. And I shall never stop mourning her. Illarion's Tattoo
Who gave thee, O Beauty,
The keys of this breast,
Too credulous lover
Of blest and unblest?
Say, when in lapsed ages
Thee knew I of old?
Or what was the service
For which I was sold?
Please tell me your master isn't Aeolus."
"That airhead?" Favonius snorted. "No, of course not."
"He means Eros." Nico's voice turned edgy. "Cupid, in Latin."
Favonius smiled. "Very good, Nico di Angelo. I'm glad to see you again, by the way. It's been a long time.
Orpheus. Had the name he had taken ever suited him better? But he would be wilier than the singer whose name he had stolen. He would indeed. He would send another man into the realm of Death in the Fire-Dancer's place-and he'd make sure that he didn't come back.
Death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!
Goddess, ... do not be angry with me about this. I am quite aware that my wife Penelope is nothing like so tall or so beautiful as yourself. She is only a woman, whereas you are an immortal. Nevertheless, I want to get home, and can think of nothing else.
which we call men [Greek: euyvomoves], or say they have
All things are in the hand of heaven, and Folly, eldest of Jove's daughters, shuts men's eyes to their destruction. She walks delicately, not on the solid earth, but hovers over the heads of men to make them stumble or to ensnare them.
This is Deirdre," said Addison. "She's an emu-raffe, which is a bit like a donkey and a giraffe put together, only with fewer legs and a peevish temper. She's a terrible sore loser at cards," he added in a whisper. "Never play an emu-raffe at cards. Say hello, Deirdre!
To wed his eldest daughter, Calla, to Aegor. Bitter his steel may have been, but worse was his tongue. He spilled poison in Daemon's ear, and with him came the clamoring of other knights and lords with grievances.
All things I do are in every woman. Every woman is Medea. Every woman is Jocasta. There comes a time when a woman is a mother to her husband. Clytemnestra is every woman when she kills.
Members of the Pravus Rule and the Vertas League are both welcome to bid on this capture, a female who will have tactical value against a common enemy.
BAAL ONE, PLIEADES CLUSTER 4210
The King of the Pleiades was well prepared for the last war. This, however, was not it." -Renegades of Ophelia's World
Death is a beautiful woman, with wings and one breast almost bare; or is that Victory? I can't remember. They
With Thy wine-cup waving high, With Thy maddening revelry, To Eleusis' flowery vale, Contest Thou - Bacchus, Paean, hail!
Go! dive into the Southern Sea, and when
Th'ast found, to trouble the nice sight of men,
A swelling pearl, and such whose single worth
Boasts all the wonders which the seas bring forth,
Give it Endymion's love, whose ev'ry tear
Would more enrich the skilful jeweller.
Elizabeth Middleton, twenty-nine years old and unmarried, overly educated and excessively rational, knowing right from wrong and fancy from fact, woke in a nest of marten and fox pelts to the sight of an eagle circling overhead, and saw at once that it could not be far to Paradise.
What's the matter, fairy boy? Pissed because Chrys rather kiss me?" - Essence (Nymphs of Macedonia Trilogy #1)
Odysseus and his soldiers to certain destruction. Odysseus
naked goddess with
An Druides be, thanne answere me: whos love in Eire is moste fyn and fre?" Herne
"whether in bedde or in feeld do ye meet, Flidais awaiteth your limbes to greet." Atticus
The phallic dignity, of a powerhouse of a warrior prince, is how the great imaginative literature of Europe begins,
Ah, she doth teach the torches to burn bright, it seems she hangs against the cheek of night like a rich jewel from an Ethiope's ear, beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear.
Antiquity is full of eulogies of another more remote antiquity.
And among many understandings and misunderstandings, Lany and Antony once again were victims of an illusory love ...
Eutrapelia . "A happy and gracious flexibility," Pericles calls this quality of the Athenians ... lucidity of thought, clearness and propriety of language, freedom from prejudice and freedom from stiffness, openness of mind, amiability of manners.
Elimae was a magician with a key in her mouth, a foreign language, a matryoshka doll: uncomplicated on the surface, but with a dozen secret selves hidden inside. She thought I didn't notice her, but she's all I did notice.
Gemellus, who had loved and worshiped her from afar, she who was in his arms now ...
Never comes the trader, never floats an European flag, -
Slides the bird o'er lustrous woodland, swings the trailer from the crag, -
Droops the heavy-blossomed bower, hangs the heavy-fruited tree, -
Summer isles of Eden lying in dark-purple spheres of sea.
Rome, if you do not wish me to betray you, make enemies that I can hate!
Dark vaild Cotytto, t' whom the secret flame
Of mid-night Torches burns; mysterious Dame
That ne're art call'd, but when the Dragon woom
Of Stygian darknes spets her thickest gloom,
And makes one blot of all the ayr
The Niobe of nations! there she stands.
Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three, To make a new Thermopylae!
Chastity prays for me, piety sings,
Innocence sweetens my last black breath,
Modesty hides my thighs in her wings,
And all the deadly virtues plague my death!
Sing, goddess, of Achilles' ruinous anger
Which brought ten thousand pains to the Achaeans,
And cast the souls of many stalwart heroes
To Hades, and their bodies to the dogs
And birds of prey.
Our Euripides the human,
With his droppings of warm tears,
and his touchings of things common
Till they rose to meet the spheres.
Fortune and love favour the brave.
[Lat., Audentum Forsque Venusque juvant.]
CLOWN. Fare thee well. Remain thou still in darkness: thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras ere I will allow of thy wits; and fear to kill a woodcock, lest thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well.
She was resting at a table between numbers in the Greek nightclub where she was dancing. A little of the stage light touched her. She was very frail. She seemed to be thinking about something far away, waiting patiently for somebody to destroy her.
So weenybeenyveenyteeny.
Don't add an eezy to my name, 'cause it has never been that'
In his new will, Typhon had named Phyllis as his only surviving relative & called her his wife.And he thus bequeathed to Phyllis everything he owned, including his flesh, bones & offals. And thus the terrible Typhon had married Phyllis without telling her.[MMT]
In the kingdome of blind men the one ey'd is king.
[In the kingdom of blind men the one eyed is king.]
from Petronius Arbiter's Satyricon, 'For once I saw with my own eyes the Cumaean Sibyl hanging in a jar. When the boys asked her, "Sibyl, what do you want?" she said, "I want to die." '" Long
What madness destroyed me and you, Orpheus?
I'm Liam of Erinthia. I'm here to rescue you ... And You are not Cinderella. You are a tree branch wrapped in a sheet
She is the widow of a Dothraki khal, a mother of dragons and sacker of cities, Aegon the Conqueror with teats.
my Clodius, how little your countrymen know of the true versatility of a Pericles, of the true witcheries of an Aspasia!
Sappho survives, because we sing her songs; And Eschylus, because we read his plays!
Fond of those hives where folly reigns,
And cards and scandal are the chains,
Where the pert virgin slights a name,
And scorns to redden into shame.
Death wants his Maiden
Death devours all lovely things;
Lesbia with her sparrow
Shares the darkness
presently
Every bed is narrow.
She dwells with Beauty
Beauty that must die: And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips, bidding Adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh, Turning to poison while the bee mouths sips:
I am Athena. Before that I was Thea, singer and slave and lover of gladiators. Before that I was Leah, daughter of Benjamin and Rachael of Masada. I am as mortal as you, you common little man. And I fear no one!
We two [Deucalion and Pyrrha, after the deluge] form a multitude.
[Lat., Nos duo turba sumus.]
Little cherub of the sea, come and play with me. Come and play with me, dearest cherub of the sea. Please come play with me, In the mad, mad sea.
Sing, Marie of Arras. Do not forget, Marie of Arras.
All the sea-gods are dead.
You, Venus, come home
To your salt maidenhead ...