Gods Daughter Quotes & Sayings

What are you doing?'Helen put her hand over his to stop him from shifting.
'I'm going inside to talk to your dad. I don't want him to feel like he can't trust me with his daughter.'
'Lucas, I swear to whatever god you think is holy that I will get out of this car and walk to school if you go inside and talk to my dad.'
Lucas smiled and shifted back into first, driving away from her house. 'Who told you the gods were holy? — Josephine Angelini

Something brought you here. Trust that it will satisfy its own intention to take you Home. — Mooji

There was darkness, and monsters vast as worlds swam in it. — Laini Taylor

Faced with a totally controlled, monitored and owned online world, in which every utterance is immediately scanned and filed away, many have yet to make the connection that the best solution may not be running Tor and eighteen proxies, but writing things down on paper and talking face-to-face. Remember the mail? Remember conversations? Yeah, those still exist. Want to shake somebody out of their online trance? Send them a letter. Send them art. Want to record something that will last longer than a few seconds on Facebook or Twitter? Write a book. The physical world didn't go anywhere. In fact, physical artifacts and experiences have only grown in totemic power the more we've pushed them away. — Jason Louv

The fabled origin of the laurel is this. Daphne, daughter of the river Peneus, offended by the persecutions of Apollo, implored succour of the gods, who changed her into a laurel tree. Apollo crowned his head with the leaves and ordered that forever after, the tree should be sacred to him. — Dorothea Dix

A daughter of the gods, divinely tall, And most divinely fair. — Alfred Lord Tennyson

Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor;
Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised!
Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon:
Be it lawful I take up what's cast away.
Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglect
My love should kindle to inflamed respect.
Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance,
Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France:
Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy
Can buy this unprized precious maid of me.
Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind:
Thou losest here, a better where to find. — William Shakespeare

I am Isis, Queen of this country. I was instructed by Mercury. No one can destroy the laws which I have established. I am the eldest daughter of Saturn, most ancient of the Gods. — Albert Pike

Sometimes, the youthful Hebe would insist on scattering her father's seed further afield, & to various places, inside & outside Greece, & even in Italy. And when the seed of the King of the Gods was scattered into the rivers & streams, lakes & ponds, & the springs in the woods, Satyrs of various types were born, & also Nymphs & Naiads, those usually described as "the sons & daughters of Zeus", not those of Oceanus & Tethys, just as the Sea Nymphs, other than the Nereids, were the daughters of Poseidon. And this also accounts for the many cities, villages & places inside & outside Greece, said to be founded by a son or daughter of Zeus. — Nicholas Chong

The past is what you remember, imagine you remember, convince yourself you remember, or pretend you remember. — Harold Pinter

An active mind cannot exist in an inactive body. — George S. Patton Jr.

Perhaps she would learn in time to permit both her daughter and her gods to govern their own affairs. — Thornton Wilder

I am content to be hated, and bloody, and outnumbered. For in this sickened world, it is better to believe in something too fiercely than to believe in nothing."
Words, words, wonderful words. But lies too.
"No, it isn't!" shouted Mosca the Housefly, Quillam Mye's daughter. "Not if what you're believin' isn't blinkin' well True! You shouldn't just go believin' things for no reason, pertickly if you got a sword in your hand! Sacred just means something you're not meant to think about properly, an' you should never stop thinking! Show me something I can kick, and hit with rocks, and set fire to, and leave out in the rain, and think about, and if it's still standing after all that then maybe, just maybe, I'll start to believe in it, but not till then. An' if all we're left with is muck and wickedness and no gods, then we'd better face it and get used to it because it's better than a lie. — Frances Hardinge

It is suggested that Ra will "eat of his daughter." Here, as elsewhere, it is indicated that Ra actually feeds on her substance.7 Maat, then, is a goddess whose existence would appear to consist of a perpetual giving of her substance in order that the divine powers can continue to function in an orderly and harmonious way. She is literally the bread by which Ra lives,8 and so by implication she is the food of all the gods, who are but the limbs of Ra. What better substance than truth could there be for the gods to feed on? — Jeremy Naydler

When Rip Torn dies - heaven forbid - but when he dies, you'll only have to write RIP Torn. — Gregor Collins

Corvid looked up at her. "Oh, hello Doris."
"Gertie, dear," she said. "They call me Gertie."
"You used to be Doris," Corvid said as a matter of fact.
"Who?" She seemed unsure of what she was being told.
"Doris, daughter of Oceanus and Tethys?" Corvid carried on when he saw her blank expression. "You must remember Nereus? Your husband?"
Nothing.
"You gave birth to fifty sea nymphs. I guess sea nymphs come out slippy and hydrodynamic, but even so, fifty of them? That must stick in the memory as the day before you felt really sore for a month or so?"
Doris thought about it for a moment. "It does ring a bell. Sorry, who are you? — Dylan Perry

In my Pantheon, Pan still reigns in his pristine glory, with his ruddy face, his flowing beard, and his shaggy body, his pipe and his crook, his nymph Echo, and his chosen daughter Iambe; for the great god Pan is not dead, as was rumored. No god ever dies. Perhaps of all the gods of New England and of ancient Greece, I am most constant at his shrine. — Henry David Thoreau

And Kestrel was in a good position to gather information for Arin's spymaster, wasn't she? Beloved by the court. Daughter of the general. Close to the emperor. Promised to his son. Tensen would never tell Arin if she was his source.
It fit perfectly. Look at her now. The maid's uniform. That coat. Something hidden in her eyes. Oh, yes. Kestrel would make a fine spy.
And let's not forget that ruined dress Deliah had described, with the ripped seams and vomit and mucky hem.
Wouldn't it be like Kestrel, to risk herself?
For what? Herran?
Him?
Gods of madness and lies. Arin was insane.
He laughed out loud. — Marie Rutkoski

We mustn't hesitate to cut corruption at its roots. — King Felipe VI

And I have no preference for where we would live. I'd go wherever you would be happy. Killing vampires? Fine. The Hie? Also acceptable - if I'm there with you."
"Acceptable." Is he joking? "The more I get to know you, the more I realize your being a vampire is only part of why I'm indifferent to you."

Acceptable? As soon as he'd said it, even before her eyes flashed, he'd known that perhaps that wasn't the best word to use with a daughter of gods. A fifth of any of his brothers' charm. — Kresley Cole

The truth is, I wanted to watch you for a time before pledging you my sword. To make certain that you were not ... "
" ... my father's daughter?" If she was not her father's daughter, who was she?
" ... mad," he finished. "But I see no taint in you."
"Taint?" Dany bristled.
"I am no maester to quote history at you, Your Grace. Swords have been my life, not books. But every child knows that the Targaryens have always danced too close to madness. Your father was not the first. King Jaehaerys once told me that madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, he said, the gods toss a coin in the air and the world holds its to see how it will land. — George R R Martin

What evil?" He laughed. "What gods?" "The gods who made us all." "All?" he mocked. "Tell me, little bird, what kind of god makes a monster like the Imp, or a halfwit like Lady Tanda's daughter? If there are gods, they made sheep so wolves could eat mutton, and they made the weak for the strong to play with." "True knights protect the weak." He snorted. "There are no true knights, no more than there are gods. If you can't protect yourself, die and get out of the way of those who can. Sharp steel and strong arms rule this world, don't ever believe any different. — George R R Martin

Harwin's eyes went from her face to the flayed man on her doublet. "How do you know me?" he said, frowning suspiciously. "The flayed man ... who are you, some serving boy to Lord Leech?"
For a moment she did not know how to answer. She'd had so many names. Had she only dreamed Arya Stark? "I'm a girl," she sniffed. "I was Lord Bolton's cupbearer but he was going to leave me for the goat, so I ran off with Gendry and Hot Pie. You have to know me! You used to lead my pony, when I was little."
His eyes went wide. "Gods be good," he said in a choked voice. "Arya Underfoot? Lem, let go of her."
"She broke my nose." Lem dumped her unceremoniously to the floor. "Who in seven hells is she supposed to be?"
"The Hand's daughter." Harwin went to one knee before her. "Arya Stark, of Winterfell. — George R R Martin

You see, I am alive, I am alive
I stand in good relation to the earth
I stand in good relation to the gods
I stand in good relation to all that is beautiful
I stand in good relation to the daughter of Tsen-tainte
You see, I am alive, I am alive — N. Scott Momaday

Folly, thou conquerest, and I must yield!
Against stupidity the very gods
Themselves contend in vain. Exalted reason,
Resplendent daughter of the head divine,
Wise foundress of the system of the world,
Guide of the stars, who are thou then, if thou,
Bound to the tail of folly's uncurb'd steed,
Must, vainly shrieking, with the drunken crowd,
Eyes open, plunge down headlong in the abyss. — Friedrich Schiller

For in this sickened world, it is better to believe in something too fiercely than to believe in nothing.' Words, words, wonderful words. But lies too. 'No, it isn't!' shouted Mosca the Housefly, Quillam Mye's daughter. 'Not if what you're believin' isn't blinkin' well True! You shouldn't just go believin' things for no reason, pertickly if you got a sword in your hand! Sacred just means something you're not meant to think about properly, an' you should never stop thinking! Show me something I can kick, and hit with rocks, and set fire to, and leave out in the rain, and think about, and if it's still standing after all that then maybe, just maybe, I'll start to believe in it, but not till then. An' if all we're left with is muck and wickedness and no gods, then we'd better face it and get used to it because it's better than a lie. Which is what you are, Mr Kohlrabi.' Mosca — Frances Hardinge

The gods made the earth for all men t' share. Only when the kings come with their crowns and steel swords, they claimed it was all theirs. "My trees," they said, "you can't eat them apples. My stream, you can't fish here. My wood, you're not t' hunt. My earth, my water, my castle, my daughter, keep your hands away or I'll chop 'em off, but maybe if you kneel t' me I'll let you have a sniff." You call us thieves, but at least a thief has t' be brave and clever and quick. A kneeler only has t' kneel. — George R R Martin

The atheist joined his hands. It wasn't against the Gods. He smiled, with his hands folded, saw his daughter's in-laws approaching near. — Bhavik Sarkhedi

I was born a Saxon, but raised by Danes, my daughter had married a Norseman, my dearest friend was Irish, my woman was a Saxon, the mother of my children had been Danish, my gods were pagan, and my oath was sworn to AEthelflaed, a Christian. Whose side was I on? — Bernard Cornwell

Fear not, my doves!" Thorn jumped as someone flung an arm around her shoulders. The strange woman who had watched Thorn fight Brand a few days before thrust her gray-stubbled skull between her and her mother. "For the wise Father Yarvi has placed your daughter's education in my dextrous hands."
Thorn hadn't thought her spirits could drop any lower, but the gods had found a way. "Education?"
The woman hugged them tighter, her smell a heady mix of sweat, incense, herbs and piss. "It's where I teach and you learn."
"And who ... " Thorn's mother gave the ragged woman a nervous look, "or what ... are you?"
"Lately, a thief." When that sharpened nervousness into alarm she added brightly, "but also an experienced killer! — Joe Abercrombie