Cronus Quotes

Even Cronus, the Titan who literally had his kids for breakfast, would find these facts hard to swallow.

A silhouette stepped toward us, and another wave of pure power ripped through the throne room. 'I'm only going to warn you once, Cronus,' said a voice, dark and dangerous. 'Get the hell away from my wife.

Calliope grabbed the loose end of his fog-infused chains and whipped it across his face. I gasped and struggled against her, but she held on to me with inhuman strength. A bright red pattern blossomed across Henry’s cheek, and at last he shook his head and came to. He touched his face and winced, and I exhaled. He was in there after all. Instead of looking at me, however, his gaze focused on something behind me, and his jaw went slack. “Persephone?” I would have rather been sliced open by Cronus than experience the gut-wrenching pain that came with hearing her name before mine.

And I wasn’t going to give up just because they insisted there was no point in trying. Even if it meant marching straight up to Cronus and giving him everything, I would really do it if it meant Henry might live.

Wordlessly James gathered me up and buried his face in my hair. "I was supposed to be your first affair." A lump formed in my throat, and I hugged him back fiercely. "I don't think it counts as an affair if the thought of Cronus makes me sick to my stomach." "So there's still hope for me, after all.

A silhouette stepped toward us, and another wave of pure power ripped through the throne room. "I'm only going to warn you once, Cronus," said a voice, dark and dangerous. "Get the hell away from my wife.

But if you were Charlotte, and you had been feeling that life was some cosmic joke that had no punchline, and in the space of a moment you had gone from being Charlotte-without-a-kitten to being Charlotte-with-a-kitten, you too would have found it nothing short of remarkable.

The halls were empty. Charlotte had missed the first bell and would be late, again. Her homeroom teacher would ask her for an excuse and she would say, 'Overwhelming feeling of dread.' That was going to go over nicely.

The stars don’t decide your future. All they do is help you to choose one for yourself - Cronus

Could you please explain to me exactly what the staff is that you carry?" Cronus proudly held the symbol of his power and authority aloft. "It is the scepter that denotes my control of the Physical Realms. All who defy me should look on it and tremble." "Oh, I see! Do you know, I thought it was a giant toothpick, or perhaps something you shoved into other parts of you anatomy. I never realized it represented your supposed right to rule," said Her Vampiric Majesty lightly.

Hera thinks of the maternal line: Gaia, Rhea and now Hera. The goddess who created the world, the goddess who nurtured it and the goddess who will protect it. But stronger than that line is its dark twin: Ouranos, Cronus and Zeus, who only care for what they can take.

He squeezed Steve's shoulder possessively. "Oh, Zero. He is not you, I must admit. He does not have your bravery, your nobility, your je ne sais quoi, and all he talks about is this magical place called 'Canada'.

Sometimes, if you want to be compassionate towards others, you have to be kind to yourself first. If you obsess too much over the restrictions you’ve placed on yourself, you’ll lose sight of you what you really want . Instead, liberate yourself . Embrace who you really are. - Cronus

Teachers loved to say people had potential; that's what teachers did to keep themselves from getting canned. What were they supposed to say-I'm sorry, your kid has no promise whatsoever? She's utterly mediocre in every way?

She stared at him for a long while, not speaking, not moving. Finally she said, "You want the truth, I'll tell you. But the information will cost you. We' Il trade. A question for a question." "Done. What do you have that Cronus wants?" "I have a...a...damn it, Lucien. I have a key, okay. Happy now?" "Yes. There. We have both now answered one question." "We both have no— Damn you! I did ask a question, didn't I? Happy now? Score one for you.

This morning, as Charlotte approached the brick facade of Hartnett, she found herself overcome with a great sense of dread. It hit her with a strange and sudden force, and she had an overwhelming urge to turn back, get into bed and not go out for about three weeks. She stopped in her tracks. The feeling itself was alarming to Charlotte - was she sensing something? Something dangerous? And was it something supernatural or just middle school? Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference.

Rhea, paired with Cronus as Titaness of the seventh day, may be equated with Dione, Diana, the Triple-Goddess of the Dove and Oak cult.

Cronus

Typhon!" Hades yelled, his voice resonant. "I will bury what is left of you in the fires of Etna." He crashed the whip hard against the ground. "I am the son of Cronus, King of Darkness, and I do not fear you.

Needless to say, most Cronus Club members during the conflict like to move to less fraught areas of the world, such as into the rather more stable heartland of the Ottoman empire, where, while the sultans may be mad during this time, at least their mothers are not.

THE MUSES Calliope (Cal-LIE-oh-pee) Muse of Epic Poetry Clio (CLEE-oh) Muse of History Melpomene (Mel-PAH-muh-nee) Muse of Tragedy Terpsichore (Terp-SIC-or-ree) Muse of Dance Thalia (THAL-ee-uh) Muse of Comedy GODS OF TITANOMACHY Mnemosyne (NEM-AH-suh-nee) Goddess of Memory Ouranos Her Father Gaea Her Mother Cronus Her Brother Rhea Cronus's Wife Themis and PhoebeMnemosyne's Sisters Prometheus and Epimetheus Mnemosyne's Nephews

You go find Hera and warn her that there’s a reckoning coming. Because Cronus is single-minded at the best of times, and once he gets within arm’s length of killing her, there’s nothing that’s going to stop him short of his own death.” I stood and realized I hadn’t touched my tea. “It’s okay,” Pandora said, noticing my gaze. “Go save the bitch; make sure she’s nice and secure. Because we want her healthy for when we get our own chance to tear her fucking head off.

She did not like seeing her loved ones like this, bent over with sorrow; everything in her wanted to cry out, to thrash and scream at the sight of it. But she knew that great grief came from great love, and that their grief was an honor to her. And she did love them so very much.

Charlotte sighed inwardly. She knew her mother was serious when she started referring to shellfish. What did that mean, anyway? What's so great about the world being your oyster? Does that mean it's really hard to open, and when you do, you have something slimy and gross on the inside?

Scarlet jumped on top of her, straddling her and sending her skull cracking into the ground. Her aunt clawed blindly, and actually managed to rake a hand down Scarlet’s stitches, ripping every single one open. “My former mistress is such a…girl,” Cronus said, disappointed. “Where are the pounding fists?” “Well, my man ain’t got no skills,” Gideon replied proudly. He wanted to stand up and point to himself and shout that Scarlet was his. That she belonged to him. “Don’t you just wait and see.” A moment passed in silence, then Cronus shook his head and said, “How do the others stand you?” Gideon

Without a sound, Scarlet kicked out her legs and sent the whore to her ass. A second later, Scarlet had again closed the distance between them. She fisted the goddess’s robe, momentum giving her strength as she flung the goddess around and around before releasing her and sending her soaring. Like Scarlet had done, NeeMah slammed into nothing. She wasn’t as quick to get up, though, and Scarlet used that to her advantage, rushing forward and elbow-diving for all she was worth. Smack. Bone cracked. Gideon couldn’t help himself. He whooped, slinging popcorn in every direction. Cronus leveled him with a glare. What? he silently mouthed, then turned back to the massacre. Blood

oh no my foot fell asleep oh cronus

Zeus gasped. So that’s why Cronus’s belly was so big! It was full of Olympians, whoever they were. Yuck!

They hauled out two huge, blocky Jotun class mechs designed for deliberate, steady progress on a battlefield. One was their very own Cronus. The other was named Craig, and no one knew quite why.

But when the city perished, thanks to king Zeus, son of Cronus, they all died and went to the house of Hades. Without them, no labor prospers, But all is ruined by the tyrant. There are no more fine things and he mixes good with evil. Does he not deserve to be flayed like a lion?

The time has come to revise this enigmatic and most important term “Aryan.” It need no longer be flagrantly and prejudiciously bandied by anyone wishing to claim exalted racial status. It need no longer be used as an appellation by those deviants brandishing pseudo-scientific ideologies, and by those who have long misunderstood the facts concerning the origin, identity and fate of the various Indo-European and Semitic races. Importantly, recent discoveries made by Jewish and Gentile investigators alike conclusively prove that the so-called “Israelites” (those arch-enemies of would-be Aryans) were not racially Semitic after all. Like the “Aryans,” they too were racially Indo-European. Their language, Hebrew, was identical with Egyptian. Therefore, in our mind, the term “Semite” must henceforth be dropped as a racial appellation for the Bible’s “Chosen People.” As we show in Volume Two, the terms “Israelite” and “Judite” do not denote races. The terms were religious and theological, and defined cult rather than race. Israelites and Judites were conglomerated groups closely affiliated with and probably blood-related to the Hyksos Pharaohs of old, a fact confirmed by top Jewish historians. Thanks to the researches of Sigmund Freud, Comyns Beaumont, L. A. Waddell, Ahmed Osman, Ralph Ellis and Moustafa Gadalla, the true identity of the Israelites has finally come out into the open. Obviously, the fact that the alleged ancestors of the Jews were racially Indo-European, and of the same racial stock as the antagonists defamed and condemned in the name of spurious racial superiority, has poignant ramifications. It assists us to immediately and swiftly restore the grievously abused term “Aryan.” The term has simply been dragged through the mud by perfidious fools of the same race as the “Israelites” whom they gullibly believe to be inferior. Now that the hydrochloric acid of reason has been applied, now that the term has been thoroughly excavated from its bed of filth, its unadulterated and original meaning may be discerned. They were not an ethnic group or a nation as such, but rather a social category with a common lifestyle – Robert Cornman and J. M. Modrzejewski (The Jews of Egypt: From Rameses II to Emperor Hadrian) Not until Jacob in a somewhat obscure manner was told to call himself Israel was that name adopted and accorded to his twelve “sons:” but if we accept the explanation of Sanchoniathon, a Phoenician of Tyre, Cronus “whom Phoenicians called Israel” was king of Phoenicia, and it signified that these Chaldeo-Phoenician tribes were worshippers of Cronus-Saturn...for Jehovah was a far later importation. The name Israel has subsequently been misappropriated, for those Biblical Christians who term themselves Israelites in fact label themselves followers of a pagan deity – Comyns Beaumont (The Riddle of Prehistoric Britain)

Temple of Delphi. It had helped him battle all kinds of monsters, beasts, and the Crony army ever since. Zeus ran after Poseidon as another thread shot down and grabbed Hestia’s ankle. Then another thread grabbed Demeter around her waist, and the next one circled Hera’s arm! “Help!” they cried as the sticky threads dragged them away. “What’s happening?” Hades asked, catching up to Zeus as they chased after the four captured Olympians. Apollo, Ares, and Athena followed at their heels.

Scowling, Scarlet grabbed her aunt by the neck and twisted with one brutal slash. The woman’s spine was instantly broken, her body flopping lifeless to the ground. But she could recover from that, and Scarlet had to know. Gideon opened his mouth to tell her she would have to find a way to remove the head from the body, but she beat him to it. She found a way. With her bare hands. That’s my girl. “That won’t kill her for good, will it?” he asked Cronus, just wanting assurance. Worked for immortals, but he’d never delivered the deathblow to a straight-up god or goddess. “Time will tell,” Cronus replied cryptically. Gideon would just go ahead and take that as “bitch was wasted forever.” Panting

Well, I considered burning this place down as a warning, but that was counterproductive as it’s in the middle of a forest. So I was going to threaten you to leave, but I don’t have the time to go around checking that you’ve actually done anything.” I stood and folded the chair, placing it over by the rest. “No, I figured I’d come here to tell you that, while no one has any proof of your wrongdoings, we all know what you did. This coven has been marked because of your actions, and Avalon will be keeping a very close eye on you. Not because we believe you’re doing anything wrong, of course, but because you were involved in a traumatic event in Germany, and they want to make certain you’re all okay. “There will be site visits, probably at random, maybe in the middle of the night. There might even be interviews with all the members, just to verify that everyone is happy and healthy.” “You can’t do that,” Mara said with barely contained rage. “I’m not. Avalon is—well, technically, Lucie is, but she helps run the place, so she’s probably qualified to tell whether people here are happy and healthy. Did I mention the random visits?” “You think this is funny?” Emily asked. I shook my head. “I think it’s deadly serious. A group of witches used by Demeter and Hera broke Cronus out of Tartarus, witches who used the coven leader’s own daughter to get the job done.” My stare could have bored holes in Mara. “Emily, I’m not going to underestimate you again. I promise you that. And Mara, dear sweet Mara. Your daughter is a delight. If you remove her from school, if you hurt her, if anything happens to her in any way that results in my friend’s daughter telling me of her unhappiness at your parenting, I will come find you. And I promise, once I’m done, no one will ever find out what happened to you.” I made my way toward the door, my piece said. “You think that you can threaten me, Mister Garrett?” Mara said, her body shaking with anger. I continued walking and opened the door before pausing for a second. “You can’t come into my coven and demand things,” Mara continued. “You’re a thug, a man with no vision who does what his masters tell him. I’m not afraid of you. You don’t scare me.” I didn’t turn back toward the two women as I spoke, “Then clearly you

You used the same chameleon potion you brewed in your hotel room to cover yourself. The one you gave to Cronus. It was obviously a good potion.” “How’d you know it was me?” she asked. “Because you just told me.” Emily’s smile faded.

Zap them, Bolt!” Immediately the thunderbolt took off after Hera and Poseidon. “No! Not them,” Zeus called in the nick of time. “The Cronies!” That was what everyone called King Cronus’s soldiers. Not to their faces, though, because they didn’t like it one bit. The bolt screeched to a halt in midair. Then it switched directions and buzzed off toward the soldiers.

Tyresia (Τειρεσίας) Tyresias is blind, it is said, but we are not really sure. We read that Tyresias was blinded by the gods because they did not want him to prophesy about 'private' matters. However, other ancient historical documents say that Tyresias was the son of a nymph who was made so by Athena as a punishment for seeing her bathing naked, but was then made a soothsayer by the goddess herself at his mother's request. Perhaps the best-known fact about Tyiresias is the one I am about to tell. One day, while walking on Mount Cillene, Tyresias came upon two snakes mating, and, annoyed by the scene, killed the female (according to one version, he merely separated them by striking first the female and then the male). At the same time, Tyresias was transformed from a man into a woman. He lived in this state for seven years, experiencing all the pleasures a woman can experience. After this period he was confronted with the same scene as the serpents. This time he killed the male serpent and instantly became a man again. One day, Zeus and Hera were divided by an argument: whether in love the man or the woman felt more pleasure. Unable to reach an agreement, with Zeus claiming it was the woman and Hera claiming it was the man, they decided to summon Tyresias, who was considered the only one who could settle the dispute as he was both man and woman. When questioned by the gods, he replied that pleasure is made up of ten parts: a man feels only one and a woman nine, so a woman feels nine times as much pleasure as a man. The goddess Hera, furious that Tyresias had revealed such a secret, made him blind, but Zeus, to compensate for the damage done, gave him the power to foresee the future and the gift of life for seven generations: the Greek gods cannot undo what other gods have done or decided. So Tyresias' blindness is actually the condition for him to fulfil his role as soothsayer. Sight comes into play directly, as a violation of a code of conduct enunciated by Callimachus (the laws of Cronus state that whoever sees an immortal against his will will pay a high price for that sight).

Nyx was just visible behind the wall, her eyes glowing like stars in the darkness of Tartarus. "Let me know when you are ready to see your father, and I will guide you to the palace myself. The Blood Moon draws near. Adjust your eyes, Pluto, to see what is so clearly in front of you." With a wave of her hand, the gates slammed shut, and the Goddess of the Night vanished from sight.

Cronus, much like his mother Gaia, has survived in concept through the ages. He is pictured in various ways and interpreted in a variety of ways; from the benevolent Father Time, sometimes at certain festive times of the year referred to as Santa Claus, to the scythe-wielding, hooded specter of death we call the Grim Reaper, Cronus is, in some sense, the only remaining true master of his ancient domain.

Should I also be glad of our unwanted guest?" "Unwanted?" Her eyes widened as her voice rose. "She's the goddess of love, fertility, beauty, and desire. Who could be more perfect for a wedding? Although..." She tapped her lush lips, considering. "She does have a bad side, but you can't blame her. Who wouldn't have issues if you'd been born from the sea foam created from Uranus's blood after his youngest son, Cronus, castrated him and threw his genitals into the sea?" The woman in pink choked on her food. The man with the goatee barked a laugh. Jay crossed his legs, although his family jewels weren't under threat. "She also had many adulterous affairs," Zara continued to her now rapt audience of singles. "Most notable with Ares. So maybe cutting off her head is a good thing." She lifted a forkful of biryani. "Did you know her name gave us the word aphrodisiac? Or that her Latin name, Venus, gave us the word venereal for venereal dis----" Jay cut her off with a raised hand. "Not something I really wanted to think about over a meal.

After Euedoreschus some others reigned, and then Sisithrus. To him the deity Cronus foretold that on the fifteenth day of the month Desius there would be a deluge, and commanded him to deposit all the writings whatever that he had, in the city of the Sun in Sippara. Sisithrus, when he had complied with these commands, instantly sailed to Armenia, and was immediately inspired by God. During the prevalence of the waters Sisithrus sent out birds, that he might judge if the flood had subsided.

You mean the blade Cronus used to cut off his father’s balls? Eww!

Rhea, the wife of Cronus, gave birth to a new son, Zeus. To save the boy, she wrapped a stone in a blanket like a baby and fooled Cronus into swallowing that. The real baby Zeus she sent away to Crete, where he grew up drinking goat milk.

CHAPTER 1 Charlotte

May the goddess bless you,” Lachesis said, then led her sister behind the curtain again. “I—I don’t understand,” I stammered, shaking off the final tendrils of the vision. “One of Cronus’s children is alive?

The transfer of power from an older sky god to a younger storm god is attested in other contemporaneous eastern Mediterranean cultures. Cronus was imprisoned and succeeded by his son Zeus, Yahweh succeeded El as the god of Israel, the Hurrian god Teshub assumed kingship in heaven after having defeated his father Kumarbi, and Baal replaced El as the effective head of the Ugaritic pantheon. A more remote and hence less exact parallel is the replacement of Dyaus by Indra in early Hinduism. These similar developments can be accurately dated to the second half of the second millennium BCE, a time of prosperity and extraordinary artistic development but also of political upheaval and natural disasters that ended in the collapse or destruction of many civilizations, including the Mycenaean, Minoan, Hittite, and Ugaritic. This was the period of the Trojan War, of the invasion of Egypt and the southeastern Mediterranean coast by the Sea Peoples, of the international unrest related in the Amarna letters.

There is an old wisdom that those who put themselves first shall become last. The subtext of this wisdom tells us that self-concern is the root of all evil. Self-concern is behind the love of money and all the other deadly sins. Certainly, Cronus’s lust for power drove him to murder his own children, even worse than what his father, Uranus had done.

If shadows were caused by the interplay between light and Life, a child's was still forming. An adult's was inextricably bound to his body, but a child had a tenuous relationship to his own permanence, and thus, his own shadow.

Married people can seem appealing precisely because they have a partner propping them up. Their well-chosen clothes, their cleanliness , that emotional stability you mentioned — all that is only because they have someone to support them . No wonder you find them more appealing than your average singleton. - Cronus (the tuxedo cat)

What place is worse than Tartarus?” “The Prison of Cronus.

After all, Cronus is the size of a Mac truck. He must be a body builder in his free time. His neck is the size of a tree trunk, his arms even bigger. It looks like he has no mouth and eyes at all, convincing prosthetics covering them, so it looks as if his face is blank. I never bothered to ask how he sees—he's a mute. I figured that the eye prosthetics are see-through, as he never seems to have any problems seeing.

The door creaks open, and a shadow casts over the white wooden floors before a large man steps through, a hood pulled over his head. I suck in a sharp breath, my eyes widening at the stature of the man. He’s not as big as Cronus, but he’s the largest man I’ve ever seen. No, it’s not his size. It’s the way he carries himself. This isn’t just any man. This is a dangerous man. I inhale, and nearly choke on the scent of him. He doesn’t smell rotten, but he smells of fire and brimstone and something… sweet. Like… like burnt roses.

Our city teems with sons who have escaped their fathers in a similar way. Usually, this remains obscure. The Oedipal relation­ship is reduced to a malaise between individuals. The loss of esteem is inevitable, but people get along with one another. Moreover, I am troubled less by my background than by the respect that my old man demands on the basis of his paternity. He cites a credit that is not his due: the fact that fathers, rulers, professors once lived and deserved this name. Nowadays, that is nothing but a rumor. When he swaggers, I sometimes feel like reminding him of the map room and the tricks he harassed my mother with. She shel­tered me from him in her cavern just as Rhea shielded her Zeus against the gluttonous Cronus. Naturally, I avoid making this chess move; I am aware, here too, of imperfection, which torments me. There are truths that we must hush if we are to live together; but you cannot knock over the chessboard. I owe my restraint partly to Bruno, whose course also covers magical and even practical conduct. He said: "If the words are about to flee your lips, then reach toward the left side of your chest for your wallet. You will then save your joke; it will accrue to your capital. You will feel your heart." That is how I act with my dad. At such times, I am even over­come with benevolence. This is also my advice to Vigo when he wants to parry hateful criticism by giving tit for tat.

Triton was Poseidon's son, and if you wanted to do something to him, that would be okay with Poseidon. (Not really.) Because there's a pattern to life--you have kids, it's a beautiful thing, they grow up, they move out of the house and have kids of their own. Or not, but at least they move out of the house. Not Triton, though. No, he wanted to stay home with Mom and Dad and run around blowing on his stupid conch shell, which was cute when he was three, but not so cute at three millennia.

Well, anyway, things are different now. The gods have gone Deep Undercover. Nothing to See Here, Folks. Move Along. Stay Behind the Yellow Line. You're Right, It's All Myth, Now Shut Up and Have a Cookie.

It’s not enough for you to be able to worship us, you *want* things.” He set his face in a sneer, and his voice grew high and mocking. “Poseidon, protect my boat from the storm! Poseidon, save my village from the tidal wave! Poseidon, I’m drowning! Save us, Poseidon, save us!” He scoffed. “Why should *I* help them?” Charlotte couldn’t take it anymore. As Poseidon ranted, she picked herself up off the ground. One foot on the floor, then the other, then she pushed herself up–oh! Not with that hand–so she was standing almost at her full height despite the loud protests of her muscles and bones. It was nothing, she was barely above Poseidon’s kneecaps, but at least she was up. She stared up at him, eyes full of fire, and hissed, “*Because you can.*

The thing is, if one of Poseidon's sons wants to eat you, you let him eat you. You're grateful. As you're being slowly digested in his stomach, you look up to the heavens--well, no, you can't really do that inside his stomach, but you can look up mentally--and say, Thank you, Poseidon, Great God of the Seas, for bestowing upon me the honor of being eaten by one of your descendants, and I can only hope that I am succulent enough to please the sanctified taste buds of your offspring.

Just then, Zee heard his name floating down the hallway in a decidedly feminine way. He stiffened. Ashleys! As they floated past him, the two girls waved and smiled at him flirtatiously, and Zee felt his face turn red. What did they want from him, anyway? They didn't know him. They thought he was cool because he was new and an athlete and had a British accent, but they didn't have any idea what he was like. They barely even knew Outside Zee, let alone Real Zee. And what was he supposed to do? Just walk up to them and say hi? He was never going to do that. Because then they would say hi back and expect him to say something else. And Zee had absolutely no idea what that would be. What in the world do you say after hi? And without some kind of plan, some kind of meticulously plotted, carefully researched, thoroughly considered plan, he would just stand there, frozen in time, while the girls slowly realized that he was not at all what they thought, that in fact he was clearly socially--and quite possibly mentally--disabled. Then they would shake their heads slowly, sigh with some combination of disappointment and pity, and walk off, while Zee stood there, still trying to come up with something to say, for a good two or three more weeks.the n he would have no choice but to move to a lonely mountaintop, where he would spend the rest of his days with no one to keep him company but an eagle and a cranky mountain goat named Mr. Thimbles.