Athena Goddess Of War Quotes

The urge to fall [in love] was utterly new and made her [Athena] dizzy. He [Odysseus] could catch her and hold her up. She knew he could. If this is how Aphrodite feels every day, it's no wonder she's such an idiot.

And nobody knows your weak spots better than sisters. Those prissy little virgins, Artemis and Athena, always looking down their smug, goody-goody noses at her.

It’s a hard choice, but this is why I lead. No one else has the stomach to do the unpleasant things that sometimes need doing.

Golden Aphrodite who stirs with love all creation, Cannot bend nor ensnare three hearts: the pure maiden Vesta, Gray-eyed Athena who cares but for war and the arts of craftsmen, Artemis, lover of woods and the wild chase over the mountain.

You still can’t touch me.” “But you’re still my goddess?” “Because I’m still your goddess.

But she’d always watched. She had always made sure he was safe. Will I fail this time? Will I finally have to watch him die, not in his bed an old man but young, and soon, and painfully?

Do not listen to your enemy, Odysseus had once told me. Look at them. It will tell you everything. I looked. Armed and armored, she was (Athena), from head to foot, helmet, spear, aegis, greaves. A terrifying vision: the goddess of war, ready for battle. But why had she assembled such a panoply against me, who knew nothing of combat? Unless there was something else she feared, something that made her feel somehow stripped and weak. Instinct carried me forward, the thousand hours I had spent in my father’s halls, and with Odysseus polymetis, man of so many wiles.

...and Athena, it must be admitted, has never been much of a friend to her fellow women. The war-like goddess of wisdom, who wasn't even gestated by a women (she sprang fully grown from her father's head), is the original "not-like-the-other-girls" girl.

The more I know you, the more I wonder who you are.” He counted off her qualities on his fingers. “You have the accent of a lady. You dress like a peasant. You shoot like a marksman. You view the world cynically, yet you venerate Miss Victorine. Your face and body would be the envy of a young goddess, yet you sport an air of innocence. And that innocence hides a criminal mind and the cheek to pull off the most outrageous of felonies.” “So I’m Athena, the goddess of war.” “Definitely not Diana, the goddess of virginity.” As the last shot hit home, he saw Amy’s mask slip. Blood rushed to her face. She bit her lip and looked toward the stairs as if only now realizing she could have—should have—left this whole discussion behind. He laughed softly, triumphantly. “Or perhaps I’m mistaken. Perhaps you have more in common with Diana than I thought.” “Pray remember, sir, that Diana was also the goddess of the hunt.” Amy leaned across the table, intent on making her point—but the blush still played across her cheeks. “She carried a bow and arrow, and she always bagged her quarry. Have a look at the bullet hole in the rock behind you and remember my skill and my cynicism. For we do know things about each other. I know that if you escape, you’ll make sure I’m hung from a gibbet. You know that if I catch you escaping, I’ll shoot you through the heart. Remember that as you cast longing glances toward the window.” With a flourish, she picked up the breakfast tray and walked up the stairs. Jermyn had learned something else about Amy. She liked to have the last word.

Eros, who was awakened when the girdle was cast aside, thought it unfitting that the Goddess of Love should turn herself into a Goddess of War, since that post was already filled by Athena. On the other hand, a battle between the Goddess of Love with the God of War also did not make sense, as they should either make love or make war & indulge either in love-games or war-games. For how could one party make love whilst the other make war at the same time? For it took two parties to either make love or make war. And thus Eros decided to turn Mars into the God of Hate to see whether a battle between Love & Hate could produce Chaos, since Love & Chaos were one & so were Hate & Chaos. And thus Eros sent Phobos & Deimos to Mars, to turn the God of War into the God of Hate.

Demons first. We don't know how Athena's dream compares to reality. It could have already happened or might not happen for another few days." "Who the hell is Athena?" Cillian asks. I raise my hand. "Oh, that makes so much more sense. I had questioned your mother's intelligence, naming one of you Artemis and the other Nina. The whole point to having twins is to give them matching names." "Yes," Artemis deadpans. "That's why our parents had us." Artemis was the goddess of the hunt; a protector. It fits my sister perfectly. Athena was the goddess of wisdom and war. It's never escape my notice that everyone thought Nina fit me better than my real name. Everyone except Leo. "If we have twins someday," Rhys says, "we'll give them matching names." Cillian nods in agreement, then claps his hands together. "Little Sonny and Cher will be so adorable." "Jane and Austen," Rhys says. "Meryl and Streep," Leo offers without looking back. "That's the one!" Rhys shouts. "You can be their godfather." Cilllian beams.

Gods in The Lost Hero Aeolus The Greek god of the winds. Roman form: Aeolus Aphrodite The Greek goddess of love and beauty. She was married to Hephaestus, but she loved Ares, the god of war. Roman form: Venus Apollo The Greek god of the sun, prophecy, music, and healing; the son of Zeus, and the twin of Artemis. Roman form: Apollo Ares The Greek god of war; the son of Zeus and Hera, and half brother to Athena. Roman form: Mars Artemis The Greek goddess of the hunt and the moon; the daughter of Zeus and the twin of Apollo. Roman form: Diana Boreas The Greek god of the north wind, one of the four directional anemoi (wind gods); the god of winter; father of Khione. Roman form: Aquilon Demeter The Greek goddess of agriculture, a daughter of the Titans Rhea and Kronos. Roman form: Ceres Dionysus The Greek god of wine; the son of Zeus. Roman form: Bacchus Gaea The Greek personification of Earth. Roman form: Terra Hades According to Greek mythology, ruler of the Underworld and god of the dead. Roman form: Pluto Hecate The Greek goddess of magic; the only child of the Titans Perses and Asteria. Roman form: Trivia Hephaestus The Greek god of fire and crafts and of blacksmiths; the son of Zeus and Hera, and married to Aphrodite. Roman form: Vulcan Hera The Greek goddess of marriage; Zeus’s wife and sister. Roman form: Juno Hermes The Greek god of travelers, communication, and thieves; son of Zeus. Roman form: Mercury Hypnos The Greek god of sleep; the (fatherless) son of Nyx (Night) and brother of Thanatos (Death). Roman form: Somnus Iris The Greek goddess of the rainbow, and a messenger of the gods; the daughter of Thaumas and Electra. Roman form: Iris Janus The Roman god of gates, doors, and doorways, as well as beginnings and endings. Khione The Greek goddess of snow; daughter of Boreas Notus The Greek god of the south wind, one of the four directional anemoi (wind gods). Roman form: Favonius Ouranos The Greek personification of the sky. Roman form: Uranus Pan The Greek god of the wild; the son of Hermes. Roman form: Faunus Pompona The Roman goddess of plenty Poseidon The Greek god of the sea; son of the Titans Kronos and Rhea, and brother of Zeus and Hades. Roman form: Neptune Zeus The Greek god of the sky and king of the gods. Roman form: Jupiter

Both C.K. and Bieber are extremely gifted performers. Both climbed to the top of their industry, and in fact, both ultimately used the Internet to get big. But somehow Bieber “made it” in one-fifteenth of the time. How did he climb so much faster than the guy Rolling Stone calls the funniest man in America—and what does this have to do with Jimmy Fallon? The answer begins with a story from Homer’s Odyssey. When the Greek adventurer Odysseus embarked for war with Troy, he entrusted his son, Telemachus, to the care of a wise old friend named Mentor. Mentor raised and coached Telemachus in his father’s absence. But it was really the goddess Athena disguised as Mentor who counseled the young man through various important situations. Through Athena’s training and wisdom, Telemachus soon became a great hero. “Mentor” helped Telemachus shorten his ladder of success. The simple answer to the Bieber question is that the young singer shot to the top of pop with the help of two music industry mentors. And not just any run-of-the-mill coach, but R& B giant Usher Raymond and rising-star manager Scooter Braun. They reached from the top of the ladder where they were and pulled Bieber up, where his talent could be recognized by a wide audience. They helped him polish his performing skills, and in four years Bieber had sold 15 million records and been named by Forbes as the third most powerful celebrity in the world. Without Raymond’s and Braun’s mentorship, Biebs would probably still be playing acoustic guitar back home in Canada. He’d be hustling on his own just like Louis C.K., begging for attention amid a throng of hopeful entertainers. Mentorship is the secret of many of the highest-profile achievers throughout history. Socrates mentored young Plato, who in turn mentored Aristotle. Aristotle mentored a boy named Alexander, who went on to conquer the known world as Alexander the Great. From The Karate Kid to Star Wars to The Matrix, adventure stories often adhere to a template in which a protagonist forsakes humble beginnings and embarks on a great quest. Before the quest heats up, however, he or she receives training from a master: Obi Wan Kenobi. Mr. Miyagi. Mickey Goldmill. Haymitch. Morpheus. Quickly, the hero is ready to face overwhelming challenges. Much more quickly than if he’d gone to light-saber school. The mentor story is so common because it seems to work—especially when the mentor is not just a teacher, but someone who’s traveled the road herself. “A master can help you accelerate things,” explains Jack Canfield, author of the Chicken Soup for the Soul series and career coach behind the bestseller The Success Principles. He says that, like C.K., we can spend thousands of hours practicing until we master a skill, or we can convince a world-class practitioner to guide our practice and cut the time to mastery significantly.

Kiernan hoists one of the bags and slips the strap over my shoulder. I grab the other one, and soon I’m loaded like a pack mule, lugging two bulky military duffels in addition to my backpack. Trey leans down to give me a goodbye kiss, but his lips are quivering with barely suppressed laughter. “What?” “You should see yourself. The toga, the sandals, and now this. You look like a short Greek Rambo.” “Athena, Goddess of Modern War,” Kiernan cracks as they get into the car. And now they’re both laughing. I pull up the stable point and blink out, now completely certain that the two of them riding in the same car was a very bad idea.

...and Athena, it must be admitted, has never been much of a friend to her fellow women. The war-like goddess of wisdom, who wasn't even gestated by a woman (she sprang fully grown from her father's head), is the original "not-like-the-other-girls" girl.

Athena is not only a Goddess of war. She is a complex and polyvalent Goddess with many other qualities—as Goddess of healing, of wisdom, of protection and self-defense, of craft and culture, of the olive tree—which can have great significance for all those healing from trauma.

She came anyway, but this time, she brought a wedding gift with her. A wedding gift that would kick off the Trojan War. Eris, the goddess of Discord, wasn't invited to the wedding of Peleus and Thetis. Not to be deterred, she came anyway, and she brought something with her. What she brought with her was a golden apple that had the words, "...to the fairest" engraved on it. And the three goddesses - Aphrodite, Athena and Hera - began fighting each other over it...and that's how the Trojan War started. It's also how Rome was founded, as the story goes.

When Athena was a young goddess, fresh out of Zeus’s forehead, her dad sent her to live with the nymphs of Lake Tritones in Libya on the North African coast. ‘You’ll like them,’ Zeus promised. ‘They’re warlike women, just like you. They might even teach you a few combat tricks!’ ‘I doubt that,’ Athena said. ‘Why are you sending me away?’ Zeus tried for a smile, which wasn’t easy, since his forehead still hurt. ‘Look, my little war-muffin –’ ‘Don’t call me that!’ ‘You’ve been stuck inside my guts your whole life,’ Zeus said. ‘This’ll give you a chance to learn about the wide world. And it’ll give the other Olympians time to get used to the idea of you being on the gods’ council. Honestly, you’re a little intimidating to them. You’re smart and powerful.

When the war has been fought out, and that peace established which is always the result of conflict and war, then it is that the goddess Athena reigns in all gentleness and purity, teaching mankind to enjoy peace, and instructing them in all that gives beauty to human life.

I have done everything in my power to be . . . relevant. To make the world about me wise, to make wisdom greater than war. I have failed. Men fight and die, and for what? Glory and power and spite and pride - nothing more. Gods and kings spin their stories, and in their stories it is good to die for one man's pride and to give thanks for the chains that are put about the neck of every child born less than a king. And I thought . . . if I could now wield power through wisdom, or mercy, or justice, then perhaps I could take power in this other way. Perhaps if I became like these men of blood and cruelty, that would be enough. So I banished from my heart all thoughts of tenderness, compassion, longing or kindess. I turned away friends for fear of being wounded, laid aside love as a danger, punished women for things men do, denied my loneliness and refued my fears. Poison. All of it. Poison. And still not enough. I am too cruel for women to love me, too tender for men to deign to grace me with respect. Where does this leave me? Why - I have fallen so far that to have men honour my name, my divinity, I must make myself an adjunct to his story. [...] My power should have broken the world, should have cracked the palaces and remade them anew. Not as goddess-who-appears-like-a-man, but as a woman, as strength-of-woman, as arm-of-woman, as wisdom-of-woman. But I could not make it so. Instead I must contrive. I must bend myself into some other shape, make some other story in which poets will praise him. A mere man. A petty mortal. They will call him wise. They will sing his song down the ages. The story of Odysseus is the last, greatest power Athena has left. They will speak his name, and after, mine. That is all the power I have.