Hestia Goddess Quotes

Sometimes the hardest power to master is the power of yielding. -Hestia

I picked up Pandora's jar. The spirit of Hope fluttered inside, trying to warm the cold container. "Hestia," I said, "I give this to you as an offering." The goddess tilted her head. "I am the least of the gods. Why would you trust me with this?" "You're the last Olympian," I said. "And the most important." "And why is that, Percy Jackson?" "Because Hope survives best at the hearth," I said. "Guard it for me, and I won't be tempted to give up again.

The goddess smiled. "You are a good hero, Percy Jackson. Not too proud. I like that. But you have much to learn. When Dionysus was made a god, I gave up my throne for him. It was the only way to avoid a civil war among the gods." "It unbalanced the Council," I remembered. "Suddenly there were seven guys and five girls." Hestia shrugged. "It was the best solution, not a perfect one. Now I tend the fire. I fade slowly into the background. No one will ever write epic poems about the deeds of Hestia. Most demigods don't even stop to talk to me. But that is no matter. I keep the peace. I yield when necessary. Can you do this?

Kronos took the child in his arms and saw right away that Demeter was another goddess. She glowed with an aura even more powerful than Hestia’s. She was trouble with a capital tau.

Prometheus may have stolen fire for the humans, but it's Hestia who keeps it alight." - Melissa Hill, "Imbolc Invocation to the Fire Goddess" From: "The Scent of Lemon & Rosemary" page 0 before introduction.

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.

1 You said ‘The world is going back to Paganism’. Oh bright Vision! I saw our dynasty in the bar of the House Spill from their tumblers a libation to the Erinyes, And Leavis with Lord Russell wreathed in flowers, heralded with flutes, Leading white bulls to the cathedral of the solemn Muses To pay where due the glory of their latest theorem. Hestia’s fire in every flat, rekindled, burned before The Lardergods. Unmarried daughters with obedient hands Tended it. By the hearth the white-armd venerable mother Domum servabat, lanam faciebat. At the hour Of sacrifice their brothers came, silent, corrected, grave Before their elders; on their downy cheeks easily the blush Arose (it is the mark of freemen’s children) as they trooped, Gleaming with oil, demurely home from the palaestra or the dance. Walk carefully, do not wake the envy of the happy gods, Shun Hubris. The middle of the road, the middle sort of men, Are best. Aidos surpasses gold. Reverence for the aged Is wholesome as seasonable rain, and for a man to die Defending the city in battle is a harmonious thing. Thus with magistral hand the Puritan Sophrosune Cooled and schooled and tempered our uneasy motions; Heathendom came again, the circumspection and the holy fears … You said it. Did you mean it? Oh inordinate liar, stop. 2 Or did you mean another kind of heathenry? Think, then, that under heaven-roof the little disc of the earth, Fortified Midgard, lies encircled by the ravening Worm. Over its icy bastions faces of giant and troll Look in, ready to invade it. The Wolf, admittedly, is bound; But the bond wil1 break, the Beast run free. The weary gods, Scarred with old wounds the one-eyed Odin, Tyr who has lost a hand, Will limp to their stations for the Last defence. Make it your hope To be counted worthy on that day to stand beside them; For the end of man is to partake of their defeat and die His second, final death in good company. The stupid, strong Unteachable monsters are certain to be victorious at last, And every man of decent blood is on the losing side. Take as your model the tall women with yellow hair in plaits Who walked back into burning houses to die with men, Or him who as the death spear entered into his vitals Made critical comments on its workmanship and aim. Are these the Pagans you spoke of? Know your betters and crouch, dogs; You that have Vichy water in your veins and worship the event Your goddess History (whom your fathers called the strumpet Fortune).

According to Hesiod's Theogony, Rhea gives birth to the following children in this order: Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Hades, Poseidon, and Zeus. Kronos swallows each of the first five deities, and Rhea is understandably consumed with grief. She consults her parents - Gaia and Ouranos, Earth and Heaven. They tell her to go to Crete to give birth to Zeus, the youngest of her children. Rhea gives birth and then plays a trick on Kronos: instead of giving him their youngest child to consume, she give him a rock, disguised as a baby. The inability to even register the difference between a god and a rock suggests that Kronos was not just a terrible father, but also an inattentive eater.

few years later, Demeter took a vacation to the beach. She was walking along, enjoying the solitude and the fresh sea air, when Poseidon happened to spot her. Being a sea god, he tended to notice pretty ladies walking along the beach. He appeared out of the waves in his best green robes, with his trident in his hand and a crown of seashells on his head. (He was sure that the crown made him look irresistible.) “Hey, girl,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. “You must be the riptide, ’cause you sweep me off my feet.” He’d been practicing that pickup line for years. He was glad he finally got to use it. Demeter was not impressed. “Go away, Poseidon.” “Sometimes the sea goes away,” Poseidon agreed, “but it always comes back. What do you say you and me have a romantic dinner at my undersea palace?” Demeter made a mental note not to park her chariot so far away. She really could’ve used her two dragons for backup. She decided to change form and get away, but she knew better than to turn into a snake this time. I need something faster, she thought. Then she glanced down the beach and saw a herd of wild horses galloping through the surf. That’s perfect! Demeter thought. A horse! Instantly she became a white mare and raced down the beach. She joined the herd and blended in with the other horses. Her plan had serious flaws. First, Poseidon could also turn into a horse, and he did—a strong white stallion. He raced after her. Second, Poseidon had created horses. He knew all about them and could control them. Why would a sea god create a land animal like the horse? We’ll get to that later. Anyway, Poseidon reached the herd and started pushing his way through, looking for Demeter—or rather sniffing for her sweet, distinctive perfume. She was easy to find. Demeter’s seemingly perfect camouflage in the herd turned out to be a perfect trap. The other horses made way for Poseidon, but they hemmed in Demeter and wouldn’t let her move. She got so panicky, afraid of getting trampled, that she couldn’t even change shape into something else. Poseidon sidled up to her and whinnied something like Hey, beautiful. Galloping my way? Much to Demeter’s horror, Poseidon got a lot cuddlier than she wanted. These days, Poseidon would be arrested for that kind of behavior. I mean…assuming he wasn’t in horse form. I don’t think you can arrest a horse. Anyway, back in those days, the world was a rougher, ruder place. Demeter couldn’t exactly report Poseidon to King Zeus, because Zeus was just as bad. Months later, a very embarrassed and angry Demeter gave birth to twins. The weirdest thing? One of the babies was a goddess; the other one was a stallion. I’m not going to even try to figure that out. The baby girl was named Despoine, but you don’t hear much about her in the myths. When she grew up, her job was looking after Demeter’s temple, like the high priestess of corn magic or something. Her baby brother, the stallion, was named Arion. He grew up to be a super-fast immortal steed who helped out Hercules and some other heroes, too. He was a pretty awesome horse, though I’m not sure that Demeter was real proud of having a son who needed new horseshoes every few months and was constantly nuzzling her for apples. At this point, you’d think Demeter would have sworn off those gross, disgusting men forever and joined Hestia in the Permanently Single Club. Strangely, a couple of months later, she fell in love with a human prince named Iasion (pronounced EYE-son, I think). Just shows you how far humans had come since Prometheus gave them fire. Now they could speak and write. They could brush their teeth and comb their hair. They wore clothes and occasionally took baths. Some of them were even handsome enough to flirt with goddesses.

This was because, after the birth of Priapus, they had developed a love/hate relationship with each other. They loved & hated each other at the same time. And even when he assured her that he would do his best to bring back Metis from the dead, she was not satisfied. She wanted Asteria & Semele to be reborn as well. And he had even issued instructions that human sacrifices should be stopped, in particular, the sacrificing of young virgin girls, since, Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, liked to see young virgin girls loved rather than cut into pieces to feed the sacrificial flame of Hestia. The Athenians, as a whole, had stopped the practice of sacrificing Hyacinthids, after Macaria. And indeed, Artemis had stopped the sacrifice of Iphigenia. And after Polyxena & Periboae were sacrificed, Athena had stopped the sacrifice of the Locrian girls by the Trojans.

The Theogony tells the origin story of the gods, the very beginning of Greek myth. Hesiod details the creation of the earliest powers – Chaos, Heaven, Earth – and then the gradual arrival of more familiar divinities: nymphs, giants, Titans. Gaia and Ouranos—Earth and Heaven – produce many children, including Kronos, who will be father to Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Hades, Poseidon, and Zeus. Their mother, the goddess Rhea, helps Zeus to overthrow Kronos, just as the latter had overcome Ouranos.

Men feared, adored, and obeyed the matriarch; the hearth which she tended in a cave or but being their earliest social centre, and motherhood their prime mystery. Thus the first victim of Greek public sacrifice was always offered to Hestia of the Hearth.

Hestia,” I said, “I give this to you as an offering.” The goddess tilted her head. “I am the least of the gods. Why would you trust me with this?” “You’re the last Olympian,” I said. “And the most important.” “And why is that, Percy Jackson?” “Because Hope survives best at the hearth,” I said. “Guard it for me, and I won’t be tempted to give up again.

worries.

Persephone, Rhea, Ceres; Goddesses of the North. Hear my call and lend me strength from the Earth.” The wick flared and the flame turned a deep shade of amber. “Cardea, Aradia, Nuit; Goddesses of the East. Hear my call and lend me knowledge from the Air.” A bright white flame appeared, followed by red and blue as I called the next two elements. “Vesta, Hestia, Brigit; Goddesses of the South. Hear my call and lend me energy from the Fire. Isis, Aphrodite, Marianne; Goddesses of the West. Hear my call and lend me wisdom from the Water.

But here they are, both making a play for the same goddess. She turns them down flat – by speaking sternly to them, something which generally goes quite badly for women in a patriarchal society – and yet there appears to be no animus between them. Hestia has somehow managed to reject three thin-skinned egomaniacs and fall out with none of them.