Avatar Love Quotes

The first pair Opal and Amber are, Agate sings in B flat, the wolf avatar, A duet-solutio! - with Aquamarine. Mighty Emerald next, with the lovely Citrine. Number Eight is digestio, her stand is Jade fine. E major's the key of the Black Tourmaline, Sapphire sings in F major, and bright is her sheen. Then almost at once comes Diamond alone, Whose sign of the lion as Leo is known. Projectio! Time flows on, both present and past. Ruby red is the first and is also the last.

We are all these things [...]. Pride, desire, compassion, cleverness, belligerence, fruitfulness, loyalty...and guilt. But above it all stands love. And if we desire to be more than human, that is the star by which we must set our sights.

Truly, it is in loss that we learn a thing's true value.

The world is full of love stories, and all lovers are in a sense the avatars of their predecessors.

Before long, billions of people around the world were working and playing in the OASIS every day. Some of them met, fell in love, and got married without ever setting foot on the same continent. The lines of distinction between a person’s real identity and that of their avatar began to blur. It was the dawn of new era, one where most of the human race now spent all of their free time inside a videogame.

We must step out of our digital avatars, and come together and have face-to-face dialogue as often as possible.

Even love comes with its own season.. and relationships with their own kismets.They start through us, and then love loves through us. And when the give-and-take between two individuals is over, the relationship fades. Like a fruit that must fall from the bough if it is to carry its life into its next avatar. There is nothing more critical than to exercise the generosity to let something end with the grace it started with.

I understood pain. It is the price of living, and of loving well,

Once a month, only for a few days, my charming sweetheart transforms into a furious avatar.

Pure love is matchless in majesty; it has no parallel in power and there is no darkness it cannot dispel.

Pride, desire, compassion, cleverness, belligerence, fruitfulness, loyalty… and guilt. But above it all stands love. And if we desire to be more than human, that is the star by which we must set our sights.

I wish I could give you your due,” Rangi muttered after some time had passed. “The wisest teachers. Armies to defend you. A palace to live in.” Kyoshi raised an eyebrow. “The Avatar gets a palace?” “No, but you deserve one.” “I don’t need it,” Kyoshi said. She smiled into Rangi’s hair, the soft strands caressing her lips. “And I don’t need an army. I have you.” “Psh,” Rangi scoffed. “A lot of good I’ve been so far. If I were better at my job you would never feel scared. Only loved. Adored by all.” Kyoshi gently nudged Rangi’s chin upward. She could no more prevent herself from doing this than she could keep from breathing, living, fearing. “I do feel loved,” she declared. Rangi’s beautiful face shone in reflection. Kyoshi leaned in and kissed her. A warm glow mapped Kyoshi’s veins. Eternity distilled in a single brush of skin. She thought she would never be more alive than now. And then— The shock of hands pushing her away. Kyoshi snapped out of her trance, aghast. Rangi had flinched at the contact. Repelled her. Viscerally, reflexively. Oh no. Oh no. This couldn’t—not after everything they’d been through—this couldn’t be how it— Kyoshi shut her eyes until they hurt. She wanted to shrink until she vanished within the cracks of the earth. She wanted to become dust and blow away in the wind. But the sound of laughter pulled her back. Rangi was coughing, drowning herself with her own tears and mirth. She caught her breath and retook Kyoshi by the hips, turning to the side, offering up the smooth, unblemished skin of her throat. “That side of my face is busted up, stupid,” she whispered in the darkness. “Kiss me where I’m not hurt.

To belong to a clan, to a tight group of people allied by blood and loyalties and the mutual ownership of closeted skeletons. To see the family vices and virtues in a dozen avatars instead of in two or three. To know always, whether you were in Little Rock or Menton, that there was one place to which you belonged and to which you would return. To have that rush of sentimental loyalty at the sound of a name, to love and know a single place, from the newest baby-squall on the street to the blunt cuneiform of the burial ground . . . Those were the things that not only his family, but thousands of Americans had missed. The whole nation had been footloose too long, Heaven had been just over the next range for too many generations. Why remain in one dull plot of earth when Heaven was reachable, was touchable, was just over there? The whole race was like the fir tree in the fairy-tale which wanted to be cut sown and dressed up with lights and bangles and colored paper, and see the world and be a Christmas tree. Well, he said, thinking of the closed banks, the crashed market that had ruined thousands and cut his father’s savings in half, the breadlines in the cities, the political jawing and the passing of the buck. Well, we’ve been a Christmas tree, and now we’re in the back yard and how do we like it?

Love could sometimes be a weakness. Mercy could sometimes be cruel.

He looks like he should be trying to pick up girls with a dumbass avatar that looks literally nothing like him as he streams on Twitch or something, not running a hotel in nowhere,

[Ye Qiu] left." Chen Guo said to Ye Xiu. "I know. I heard." Ye Xiu responded. "Then why didn't you respond." "I did. My heart almost broke." Ye Xiu said.

Vengeance stems from a love of justice and a desire to redress wrongs. But revenge is damning. Three faces has the Night Angel, the avatar of Retribution: Vengeance, Justice, Mercy.

There was a tickle against her brow. She and Rangi looked up to see a swirling dance of leaves, spinning around in a circle, the two of them caught in its eye. Kelsang used to make her laugh in the garden like this, by swirling the air, letting her touch the currents and feel the wind run between her fingers. Kyoshi let the breeze play against her skin before giving it a gentle push with her hand. The wind spun faster at her request. She could feel Kelsang smiling warmly at her, a final gift of love. “They’ll always be with us,” she said to Rangi. “Always.

The avatar she’d designed to conquer the game of life wouldn’t stop to hug her nemesis. Badass Simone would pulverize the competition. Find his biggest weakness and exploit it in a tactical strike.

To My Priestess Sisters To my priestess sisters: the keepers of mysteries, the medicine women, the story keepers and story tellers, the holy magicians, the wild warriors, the original ones, the ones who carry the ancients within the marrow of your bones, the ones forged in the fires, the ones who have bathed in thier own blood, the heroines who wear thier scars as stars, the ones who give birth to their visions and dreams, the ones who weep and howl upon the holy altars, the avatars, the mothers, maidens and crones, the mystics, the oracles, the artists, the musicians, the virgins, the sensual and sexual, the women of our world- I honor you. I stand for you and with you. I celebrate both your autonomy and our sisterhood of One. We are many. We are fierce. We are tender. We are the change agents and we are radically holding and clearing space for the bursting forth of the holy seeds of the collective conscience and consciousness. We are manifestors and flames of purification and transformation. We are living our lives in authenticity, vulnerability, transparency and unapologetically. We are committed to integrity, impeccability, accountability, responsibility and passionate love. We are here on purpose, with purpose and give no energy to conformity, acceptance or approval. We are the daughters of the earth and the courageous of the cosmos. Priestess, keep living your life passionately, raising the cosmic vibrations and lowering your standards for no one. You are brazenly blessed and a force of nature. Nurture yourself and one another. You are a crystalline bridge between realms and uniting heaven and earth. You are a priestess and you are divinely anointed, appointed and unstoppable.

Now Christianity proposes a completely different account of how history comes to a climax and what precisely constitutes the new order of the ages—which helps to explain why so many of modernity’s avatars, from Diderot to Christopher Hitchens, have specially targeted Christianity. On the Christian reading, history reached its highpoint when a young first-century Jewish rabbi, having been put to death on a brutal Roman instrument of torture, was raised from the dead through the power of the God of Israel. The state-sponsored murder of Jesus, who had dared to speak and act in the name of Israel’s God, represented the world’s resistance to the Creator. It was the moment when cruelty, hatred, violence, and corruption—symbolized in the Bible as the watery chaos—spent itself on Jesus. The resurrection, therefore, showed forth the victory of the divine love over those dark powers. St. Paul can say, “I am certain that neither death nor life, neither angels nor principalities, nor any other creature can separate us from the love of God,” precisely because he lived on the far side of the resurrection.

Fictional characters are the original avatars for writer and reader alike. In this place of freedom we can choose who we want to be. And we can find a spectrum of feeling, experience, sexuality, even anger or murder, not available in daily life.

You must confess yourself. It is the way to love the truth. Tell me who sent you, and I will let you sit in the Eel Bath.” “Let me?” This was less incentive than he thought. “And I will let you lick clean the soles of True Believers in the time beyond the Year of Carnage!

I’m sorry for saying you had to live with your pain.” Kyoshi put her palm to his chest in a gesture of comfort. “Because you won’t.” The cold she sent through his body formed a tunnel of ice between his ribs. It happened so fast, and with so much force, the moisture in the air behind him turned to frost. His back sprouted vaporous wings of crystal that disappeared just as quickly. With his heart and lungs frozen solid, Yun fell to the side. Kyoshi took the hand with which she’d killed one of the two people she’d loved and placed it against the wound of the other. Water. She needed more water. Her tears of light weren’t enough.

Though I loved the wired world, the new-wave librarians, the avatars and activists, I turned into a dinosaur in that library. I couldn’t help it; I was an old-fashioned writer who loved the ancient books summoned via pneumatic tubes, the archives, the quiet. I had found something rare there: an inexhaustible wonder.

In the intricate and mutable space-time geometry at the black hole, in-falling matter and energy interacted with the virtualities of the vacuum in ways unknown to the flatter cosmos beyond it. Quasi-stable quantum states appeared, linked according to Schrodinger's wave functions and their own entanglement, more and more of them, intricacy compounding until it amounted to a set of codes. The uncertainty principle wrought mutations; variants perished or flourished; forms competed, cooperated, merged, divided, interacted; the patterns multiplied and diversified; at last, along one fork on a branch of the life tree, thought budded. That life was not organic, animal and vegetable and lesser kingdoms, growing, breathing, drinking, eating, breeding, hunting, hiding; it kindled no fires and wielded no tools; from the beginning, it was a kind of oneness. An original unity differentiated itself into countless avatars, like waves on a sea. They arose and lived individually, coalesced when they chose by twos or threes or multitudes, reemerged as other than they had been, gave themselves and their experiences back to the underlying whole. Evolution, history, lives eerily resembled memes in organic minds. Yet quantum life was not a series of shifting abstractions. Like the organic, it was in and of its environment. It acted to alter its quantum states and those around it: action that manifested itself as electronic, photonic, and nuclear events. Its domain was no more shadowy to it than ours is to us. It strove, it failed, it achieved. They were never sure aboardEnvoy whether they could suppose it loved, hated, yearned, mourned, rejoiced. The gap between was too wide for any language to bridge. Nevertheless they were convinced that it knew something they might as well call emotion, and that that included wondering.

He had never seen anything die before and so, he could not be certain that she was dying. And yet, somewhere deep inside himself, he felt a recognition and then a reckoning: this was death, and he would die, and his mother would die, and everyone you ever met and ever loved would die, and maybe it would happen when you or they were old, but maybe not. To know this was unbearable: it was a fact too large for a nine-year-old avatar to contain.

Radha Krishna Krishna, Svayam Bhagavan, Avatar of Vishnu, play your flute for me beneath this parasol of stars, diadems bejeweling your eternal crown, and I will dance for you a joyous dance. Svayam Bhagavan, Avatar of Vishnu, visit your consort, Radha, mantled in the black of night, the cow-herd girl who has stolen your heart, and now the gopi has become the guru and awaits her lover with open arms. Svayam Bhagavan, Avatar of Vishnu, stay the night, and learn the love of Radha,shakti, her wifely love, the svakaya-rasa, her spiritual love, the parakiya-rasa, for immortality is a curse without both of these. Svayam Bhagavan, Avatar of Vishnu, return to heaven now for the cock has crowed and yet you linger, lazy in Radha’s bed. Even endless love must seek and end to repeat the joy of new beginnings. Return, Krishna, I beseech you, for my feet are weary of the dance and I have fields to plow and rice to plant.

It’s not just her. My brother, my husband, my friends who have become my family. Wyverns, wild beasts who only understand the barest meaning of the war. Warriors who deserve to see old age with their loved ones, raise children…” “This is why you are a good king,” Larianna said gently. “Come dawn, you shall give a speech, then you will send them into battle. Even as they start to die, you shall still be a good king because you know the worth of their lives…and their deaths.

It had been decided long before she was born that power was adequate compensation for losing what she most held dear. But what was the point anymore? What did the generations have to offer her but sorrow and pain? All she knew as she rocked back and forth, cradling the girl she loved in a lullaby of grief, was that if Rangi was taken from her, she would no longer be Kyoshi. She would no longer be human. She would be forever on the other side of the rift, among the swirling colors of the void she’d glimpsed in the Spirit World, watching humans from afar, a terrible and alien presence.

Stories are full of questions. What if? What is? Who am I? Who are you? What do I believe? Why do I believe it? We ask these questions in other ways – of course we do, politically, philosophically, spiritually. We address them head-on. And that’s the difference, I guess, because, as Freud worked out at the start of the 20th century, human beings cannot always, or even optimally, address the big, the dark, the difficult, the shameful, the guilty, the criminal, the crazy head-on. We have to go sideways, downwards, away from without running away. We use a proxy or an avatar. And that’s what stories let happen.

Blessed are the generous in love: for theirs is the Love of the Goddess. Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the poor: for they shall inherit the Earth. Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after the knowledge: for they shall be enlightened. Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall be loved by the Goddess. Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the avatars of the Goddess. Blessed are they who are persecuted: for theirs will be the Goddesses' justice. Blessed are you of the Goddess when the ignorant shall revile you, And persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for the Goddesses sake.

Now, if I find liberation in moments of doubt, it comes with the one movement I always end up having to make, the only movement I can make—away from the abstract, general, and hypothetical and back into the jagged grain of the here and now, into the humanizing specificity of my love for my father, mother, brother, wife, and children, and into my sheer delight in their existence as distinct and irreplaceable people, not “bodies”—as contemporary lingo would have it—or avatars, sites of racial characteristics and traits, reincarnations of conflicts and prejudices past. Through these people I love, I am left with myself as the same, as a man and a human being who is free to choose and who has made choices and is not reducible to a set of historical circumstances and mistakes.

A hell-fire faith that uses the theatrical techniques of revivalism in order to stimulate remorse and induce the crisis of sudden conversion; a saviour cult that is for ever stirring up what St. Bernard calls the amor carnalis or fleshly love of the Avatar and personal God; a ritualistic mystery-religion that generates high feelings of awe and reverence and aesthetic ecstasy by means of its sacraments and ceremonials, its music and its incense, its numinous darknesses and sacred lights in its own special way, each one of these runs the risk of becoming a form of psychological idolatry, in which God is identified with the ego's affective attitude towards God and finally the emotion becomes an end in itself, to be eagerly sought after and worshipped, as the addicts of a drug spend life in the pursuit of their artificial paradise.

The most important feeling in the world is trust. The worse is betrayal. Without trust, there is no love. Without trust, there is betrayal. And betrayal is the ultimate consequence of selfishness and naiveness, both ramifications of egotism. Whenever you can't confront reality, you can't love and you can't protect yourself against the lack of it. Wisdom can help you, because wisdom consists in the ability to love oneself, confront reality and accept the mistakes of others. That requires courage, but courage without wisdom is foolishness in disguise. You must be wise to see through and remain calm. It is a never-ending goal, and as much as the intensity of the complexities you're faced with. More complexities require more wisdom. Peace can't be found without an action towards it, and solutions that justify it. An antagonistic solution would only present itself as one whenever wisdom has failed. An avatar must be immensely wise to live with himself but not ignorant enough to accept the masses when confronted with their ignorance. However, if you're just a mortal being struggling against endless challenges, pray to God for wisdom, for He will bring forth to your realm His most highly recommended masters and meaningful literature. If you find them, don't judge them by how they appear, look or are dressed. Don't judge them as well by when and where they appear to you. For the unwise does not have the right to judge the mysteries unveiling his own ignorance. And if you find a book in a trashcan, do not judge it as well by where you have found it. Salvation is everywhere. It is wise to believe that. We suffer more due to the immense signs we reject than those we accept.

My dear readers, I find myself perplexed by the phantoms that now inhabit our veins and perpetually whisper in our ears. These specters are always watching, their formless eyes casting judgement upon our every thought and action. They stalk us behind screens and within circuits, gathering each tidbit we release into the ether to build their ever-growing profiles of our souls. Through these ghastly portals, our lives have become performance. Each waking moment an opportunity to curate our images and broadcast our cleverness. Nuance has fled in favor of hashtag and like, while meaning has been diced into 280 characters or less. Substance is sacrificed at the altar of shareability, as we optimize each motive and emotion to become more digestible digital content. Authenticity now lives only in offline obscurity, while our online avatars march on endlessly, seeking validation through numbers rather than depth. What secrets remain unshared on these platforms of glass? What mysteries stay concealed behind profiles and pose? Have we traded intimacy for influence, and true understanding for audience engagement? I fear these shadow networks breed narcissism and foster loneliness, masked as connection. That the sum of a life’s joys and sorrows can now be reduced to a reel of carefully selected snippets says little of the richness that once was. So follow the phantoms that stalk you if you will, but do not forget that which still breathes beneath the screens. There you will find humanity, flawed but whole, beautiful in its imperfection and trajectory undefined by likes or loves. The lanterns may flicker and fade, but the darkness that remains has always held truth. Look deeper than the glow, and know that which can never be shared or measured, only felt. In mystery, Your friend, Edgar Allan Poe (Poe talking about social media)

against the velvet rope force fields that kept everyone without an invitation at bay. As I walked toward the entrance, the crowd bombarded me with a mix of insults, autograph requests, death threats, and tearful declarations of undying love. I had my body shield activated, but surprisingly, no one took a shot at me. I flashed the cyborg doorman my invitation, then mounted the long crystal staircase leading up into the club. Entering the Distracted Globe was more than a little disorienting. The inside of the giant sphere was completely hollow, and its curved interior surface served as the club’s bar and lounge area. The moment you passed through the entrance, the laws of gravity changed. No matter where you walked, your avatar’s feet always adhered to the interior of the sphere, so you could walk in a straight line, up to the “top” of the club, then back down the other side, ending up right back where you started. The huge open space in the center of the sphere served as the club’s zero-gravity “dance floor.” You reached it simply by jumping off the ground, like Superman taking flight, and then swimming through the air, into the spherical zero-g “groove zone.” As I stepped through the entrance, I glanced up—or in the direction that was currently “up” to me at the moment—and took a long look around. The place was packed. Hundreds of avatars milled around like ants crawling around the inside of a giant balloon. Others were already out on the dance floor—spinning, flying, twisting, and tumbling in time with the music, which thumped out of floating spherical speakers that drifted throughout the club. In the middle of all the dancers, a large clear bubble was suspended in space, at the absolute center of the club. This was the “booth” where the DJ stood, surrounded by turntables, mixers, decks, and dials. At the center of all that gear was the opening DJ, R2-D2, hard at work, using his various robotic arms to work the turntables. I recognized the tune he was playing: the ’88 remix of New Order’s “Blue Monday,” with a lot of Star Wars droid sound samples mixed in. As I made my way to the nearest bar, the avatars I passed all stopped to stare and point in

Dogs see with their eyes. Humans see with their minds. That makes all the difference in how they live their lives." -- Avatar

...I conducted a number of experiments to get in touch with my future self. Here are my favorite three: • Fire up AgingBooth. While hiring a programmer to create a 3-D virtual reality simulator is probably out of your price range, I personally love an app called AgingBooth, which transforms a picture of your face into what you will look like in several decades. There are also other apps like it, like Merrill Edge’s web app that shows you a live avatar of what you’ll look like at retirement (faceretirement.merilledge.com). AgingBooth is my favorite of them all, and it’s available for both Android and iOS, and it’s free. On the website for this book (productivityprojectbook.com), you can see what to expect out of the app—I’ve framed a picture of myself that hangs above my computer in my office, where I see it every day. Visitors are usually freaked out. • Send a letter to your future self. Like the letter I wrote at camp, writing and sending a letter to yourself in the future is a great way to bridge the gap between you and your future self. I frequently use FutureMe.org to send emails to myself in the future, particularly when I see myself being unfair to future me. • Create a future memory. I’m not a fan of hocus-pocus visualizations, so I hope this doesn’t sound like one. In her brilliant book The Wallpaper Instinct, Kelly McGonigal recommends creating a memory of yourself in the future—like one where you don’t put off a report you’re procrastinating on, or one where you read ten interesting books because you staved off the temptation of binge-watching three seasons of House of Cards on Netflix. Simply imagining a better, more productive version of yourself down the line has been shown to be enough to motivate you to act in ways that are helpful for your future self.

Beauty inspires love; so it is said, in Terre d’Ange. Was it done that we might find this world worthy of loving?

How strange it must be, I thought, to be wed not merely as husband and wife but Cruarch and Queen, trading men’s lives and the wealth of nations as love-tokens.

when we are most resolutely disengaged from the public sphere—when we are sleeping—our numerous social media profiles, “our patchwork of surrogate identities,” now stand in as our waking avatars, projecting our photographs and opinions, receiving “likes” and comments.11

We are the stars. Made out of the scars. Of stardust souls. Before Us. - Avatar

See, as per vedas, Ganapathy is a goddly creature born for shiv and parvati and he has three consoles and ganeshloka as abode. But as per mythics and legends and epics these goddly creature will take multiple reincarnations or avatars and I was born as son of krishnamoorthy not shiv and I chose a path of sarawati even after reading all hindu relgious texts. Because I visualized my path, my goal is in biological research and space exploration an for that I needed universal knowledge although as shivs son also had universal knowledge but trapped in family cycle and he said parents are universe, but for space exploration in this reincarnation he needed different parents. still parents are universe but path is biology and space exploration thats why i had to choose saraswati as my goddess as she is goddess of universal knowledge although she is not exactly Indian. But Previous cycle also touch christianity and Rajput clans, so I am Indian and always Indian. Tamil as my land of birth, I love them and I dont want to see them as slaves but as respectful Indians. So they need to change a lot. And north indians are ncessary for national importance so whatever they are doing can not be avoided. Karnataka is a place of business, Andhra is place of family, culture. Maharashtra is misusing Ganapathy, Kerala poor souls. Everywhere there are criminals and I dont care about them what I care is respectful and peacful life for all humans on the world. Only nations I doubt are China and Sri Lanka. I am going on my path as it was predetermined, but choosing biology on which instituion (Obviously other than China, North Korea and Srilanka) - Rest of the world is accepted as long as terrific brothers i e Pakistan is not going against peace. All other nations will understand the importance of peace although they have issues among them. In science, if extreme is required kindly do 100% safe regulations after getting opinions from each and every human and biodiversity and climate change as concerns on that location

The Timid Gods! When the sun shines high, And it leaves its morning shyness, As it dominates the light spreading across the vastness of the sky, Then let me reflect back to it your loveliness, When the sun beams dazzle over flowers many, And they sway with the afternoon breeze, Let me show them your beautiful avatars many, And ah their unease, When the river flows at its enjoyable pace to meet the sea, Then let me submerge your essences into the infinite reservoir of feelings, Then as the river meets the sea, let it see, That in the sea of beauty every drop, every wave and every ripple is a creation of your beauty’s dealings, When the God of beauty wakes up from the blissful sleep, Let me cast your shadows around the universe, And as its reflections to and fro leap, Then let the God’s realise their acts perverse, Because Gods sometimes resort to fiendish timidity, Where they believe the universe is for them alone, And when I show them your beauty, Then let them realise that they too, to many weaknesses are prone, When the winter approaches and the rose in the winter garden lies abandoned, By the summer kisses and beauty’s secret visitations, Let me make you touch its heart that in winter freeze lies stoned, Then let the God’s feel their privations, And when my love Irma, you allow me to, I shall create a new order in the Universe, Where love given is the love received too, Then, that shall be the universe to which no one shall be averse.

Love provides the motivation for caring. Caring is complex and messy.

Busy street of emotions On a languid Sunday afternoon on the busy street, Everything everywhere appeared to be missing a beat, Few of their desires, of their hopes, many of their own dreams, And in midst of all this I could hear strange screams, There was rush, there was movement, there was life in its busiest state, Many loved to be a part of it whereas a few showed all signs of hate, They were the ones who were not chasing life, they were after something different, That the busy street did not offer, and to the most people caught in its glamour it nothing meant, To me all appeared to be seeking the same illusive something, A thing that is born of nothing, and to a few it means everything, That something, about which I had no clue, but the busy street certainly knew about it, It knew everything about it, But it had concealed it from all, happy and sad alike, For now it had kept everyone busy pursuing what he/she liked, and what next he/she would like, It was then she appeared in the busiest corner of the street, Where people crossed each other; but noone nobody did ever meet, They all saw other people's eyes but not what their eyes could see, All were in this maze of fascinations where they had been before, but there they again and again wished to be, And then she got up and left this busy corner, And whispered in my ear, “let me show you a life that is real and livelier!” I followed her wherever she went, And that is how my Sunday was spent, Finally as the evening set in and people began to feel weary, And life too seemed dreary, I looked at the once busy street that was now empty and desolate, “This is the fact of life, and this is what you shall be able to isolate!” With these last words she disappeared, And now on the street, only I and my infinite avatars appeared, Everywhere, in everything, and the street got busy again, Because now I was dealing with life in its reality: joy, sorrow, love, faith, defection, everything and even pain, So whenever you visit this busy street, walk towards everything with every feeling, Because in our lives we all are either with retreating joy or with an advancing pain dealing!

In fact, Odin is not alone in having valkyries in his service. Analysis of the texts and of the attested valkyrie names reveals that these women can be sorted into three major groups: some are indisputably warriors and bear the names of fighters (“Battle,” “Force,” “Paralyzing,” etc.), others have “feminine”-sounding names, and the last group, which is the least numerous, has names associated with fate. 37 The goddess Freya has a right to half of those who die on the battlefield (valr), while the other half are reserved for Odin; furthermore, this goddess is also a swan maiden. I should add that because of the theme of transformation into swans, water is also closely associated with these mythological legends. We are still evolving in the same great complex of representations: elves/water–death–life–Third Function. One final detail we may point out: the valkyries do not shun the love of men (cf. Brynhildr, who disobeys Odin on account of her love for Helgi), and a very ancient belief, which we see crop up more recently in the writings of Paracelsus, is that water sprites are the closest of such elemental spirits to humans and the most apt to form unions with them.

We can be certain that the dwarf was originally a “twisted individual,” predisposed to being a deceiver by reason of the solidarity between an individual’s physical appearance and his moral character. The people of the Middle Ages held on to such opinions for a long time: everyone who was poorly built or ugly was reputedly malevolent and wicked, a belief the Church countered by relying on the words from the Song of Solomon (1:5): “Dark am I, but lovely.” My interpretation is subject to the connection of the two roots *dhwer(gh)and *dhreuwgh-made by Manfred Mayrhofer in his etymological dictionary of Sanskrit under dhvarati, “night, damage.

Freyr is the embodiment of the Third Function: “He controls the rain and the shining of the sun,”—this brings Aubéron to mind—“and through them all bounty of the earth. It is good to invoke him for peace and abundance. He also determines men’s success in prosperity.”11In fact, the Njörðr–Freyr–Freya triad is the result of a process of polymorphism: Nerthus has “exploded” into three distinct deities, each of whom specializes in a specific domain within the same function. Njörðr is the patron of sailing and fishing, and Freya oversees love and pleasure. By placing the elves under Freyr’s aegis, the ancient mythographers, with Snorri Sturluson at the forefront, placed them in the sphere of fertility and fruitfulness. It is quite possible that at one time in their historical evolution, elves were gods in their own right. It is tempting to accept this hypothesis in view of the triadic expressions that insert them alongside the Æsir and the Vanir. There is a good example of this in the Eddic poem För Skírnis (Skírnir’s Journey), where we read: “I am not one of the elves, nor one of the Æsir, nor one of the shrewd Vanir.”12 But as gods, the elves would not have been singled out, and they would reflect a complex of notions centered on the Third Function—a complex that the Vanir would have absorbed.

The Alberîch of the Ortnit epic is quite different from the one that appears in the Nibelungenlied. The guardian spirit of the young king of Lombardy, his beauty and solar nature make him akin instead to Aubéron, as does his age (five hundred years) and the fact that the meeting with the knight takes place in a forest or in the immediate proximity of a grove. But Ortnit’s father also has a feature that we do not find elsewhere: he is mischievous and loves to play a thousand tricks.

Dwarfs experience the same passions as men, especially the torments of love and the goad of ambition. They wage war among themselves to conquer other hollow mountains. They have hereditary enemies in the form of giants and dragons. Their amusements correspond thoroughly to those of the human world: they love music, singing, dancing, good meals washed down with wine or mead; they organize jousts and tourneys on the green meadows that extend before their underground palaces; and finally, they know how to speak courteously. The great majority of dwarfs are well meaning and helpful; it is only in the Arthurian romances—in agreement with romance literature in general on this point—that we find portrayals of treacherous or thieving dwarfs.

Once upon a time there was a dog, a dog full of lust. He had been with many bitches, but when he gratify himself he leave for another one. One day he saw a lioness, a bold and audacious lioness, with her friends playing, she was young. Her wit and valour made him fall for her. He decided he will propose her, before even giving a thought about it, because after all he is a dog. The lioness laughed at him, insulted him and told him that she likes lions who are intelligent and strong. He could not fathom it because it was the first time he fell in love but got heartbroken. He approached her again many times but got insulted everytime. Lioness didn't gave a fuck about him or his love. He suffered for days, months and years. The pain was increasing such that he even thought about killing himself. But he was born with only one quality,hopefulness. He knew that moving on will not be a good idea and he will going to regret for whole life. So he decided, he will transform himself. He didn't know how he will going to achieve it but what he knew was he loves a lioness. He made her his object of contemplation, his meditation. He did penance for years full of austerity. His penance was so strong that it created an enormous amount of energy around him which transformed him into a lion, not a born lion, but an evolved one. He has now all the capabilities, the lioness desired, even more than that. He decided he will propose her once again in his new avatar but an intelligent thought strikes him. What if the lioness had said yes the first time like the previous bitches. He stopped right there. 'He didn't fell but rose in love

If Aphrodite had an avatar on earth, it was her. It was her- the Holy Grail men keep searching all through their lives! - O Amor

If Aphrodite had an avatar on earth, it was her. It was her- the Holy Grail men keep searching all through their lives!

Pride, desire, compassion, cleverness, belligerence, fruitfulness, loyalty… and guilt. But above it all stands love. And if we desire to be more than human, that is the star by which we must set our sights. It is all we can do to try. It is enough.

Silicon Valley had perfected the image of itself as a meritocracy and touted that as one of its greatest strengths—that anyone could become a billionaire. In fact, tech has always been a mirrortocracy, full of people who liked their own reflection so much that they only saw value in those that looked the same. They keep copying themselves, choosing slight variations on the same avatar template. Financial success was proof of their talents, which was like the old cliché of starting on third base and thinking you hit a home run.

Love is hard, but it gets better.

Standing in an attitude of no-recoil in the midst of all arising conditions, you Intrinsically Self-Apprehend (or Self-Apperceive, or “Perfectly Know”) the Intrinsically egoless, Indivisible, and Acausal Self-Nature, Self-Condition, and Self-State of Reality Itself—and, As Such, you Are Love-Bliss-Fullness Itself.

May the joy of this festival brighten your life and annihilate all the ills in this world. May Maa Durga’s nine avatars bestow their blessings on your family and friends, and may the auspicious energy of this festival bring you health and happiness throughout your life. Allow the divine power to give you the strength and power you need to overcome all of life’s challenges. I wish you and your family a Happy Navratri.

We trade authenticity for attachment and this becomes our ideal identity–our default avatar. We try to prove it by behaving in alignment with our ideal identity, that we are worthy of being loved and accepted. We also receive it from those around us, information on what loses us that acceptance, love, and approval, and so these become our shadow selves–our unwanted identities.

If what you say is true...If i really am your mother...Then I'm sorry I didn't love you ENOUGH.

What's your problem?" "Just want to love this place again. Thought it was heaven when I first started playing. A million ways to win. Couldn't even tell what winning meant." The buckskinned explorer hangs frozen for a moment. Maybe his animus had to take out the trash or answer the phone or rock the new baby. Then his avatar does a strange little two-step resurrection. "Now it's same old crap over and over. Mine mountains, cut down woods, lay sheet metal across meadows, put up stupid castles and warehouses. Just when you have it how you want, some asshole with mercenaries blows the shit out of you. Worse than real life."p377

That might just be the fangirl in me that fell in love with Prince Zuko instead of Sokka from Avatar: The Last Airbender. I've got a thing for the bad guy.

The hippies became another corporate avatar, another mascot selling sugary cereal instead of free love.

Cleopatra identified herself as an avatar of love goddess Aphrodite.

It is utterly remarkable how science comes up with new names and equations to describe Self. Self easily gets lost in translation which is why Self ended up with The Tower of Babel. First science tells Human it is not God but Physical this although Physical means Spiritual (Physic=Spirit). Naturally this is insufficient for, although Human no longer believes it is God, Human still believes in God. Not to be discouraged, science comes up with the DNA world hypothesis which suggests that Life on Earth began with DNA this although DNA is Deus Non Alligator (Spirit Unbound). Now Human ends up further in the rabbit hole it itself is digging. There is a lot of confusion by now but science wants to keep going which is reminiscent of the story of Hansel and Gretel leaving bread crumbs along the trail and getting lost in translation. So it is. The moment Human questions the concept of DNA science returns to Human with RNA and sells Human the RNA world hypothesis which suggests that Life on Earth began with a simple RNA molecule that could copy itself without help from other molecules stating DNA, RNA, and proteins are central to Life on Earth. Clever clever! Of course RNA is an invention for the meaning of the word RNA is Ram Non Alligator. Ram naturally being Rama also known as Ramachandra (रामचन्द्र, Rāmacandra) which is a major deity of Hinduism being the 7th avatar of the God Vishnu. What is next? VNA? KNA? CNA? GNA? INA? My G-dness. Let I tell I itself is I and let's just return to the indivisible nature of I. I is pure spirit. I is indivisible. I is Love. Love is the purpose of Life for Life is not Life but God desiring not to be alOne, desiring companionship, desiring Love! I does not say all sciences are incorrect but it is true that some in the sciences seem to be pulling their own leg, woof woof I-ndeed. Nothing wrong with T(h)āt as long as तत् does not forget the purpose of its own beingness: Love! Interestingly enough; the meaning of the word Hypothesis means Less Than God. As such; return to God is Love One eternally must. The equation? God=Love.

I had Joscelin, my Perfect Companion, the compass by which I fixed my heart. No one could ask more.

That is consciousness, being able to feel, to identify oneself among the many. That’s what source love is and we are derived of it. We are its avatars, its many voices. We are what makes it learn and to grow and to expand on its current state of being.

So you know that the RIGHT kind of love ... the kind that's REAL, that SACRIFICES ... that kind of love doesn't BLIND you. It actually helps you SEE.

So you know that the RIGHT kind of love ... the kind that's REAL, that SACRIFICES ... that kind of love doesn't BLIND you. It actually helps you SEE.