Icarus Story Quotes

But I’ve never seen the Icarus story as a lesson about the limitations of humans. I see it as a lesson about the limitations of wax as an adhesive.

I’ve never been certain whether the moral of the Icarus story should only be, as is generally accepted, ‘don’t try to fly too high,’ or whether it might also be thought of as ‘forget the wax and feathers, and do a better job on the wings.

I remember Icarus. He flew too close to the sun. In the stories, though, it’s worth it. Always worth it to have tried, even if you fail, even if you fall like a meteor forever. Better to have flamed in the darkness, to have inspired others, to have lived, than to have sat in the darkness, cursing the people who borrowed, but did not return, your candle.

Rare stories traveled of those who rose too high, the ships who sailed like Icarus towards the sun. And like him, they crashed and burned for their arrogance.

What if it were possible or even entertaining, to recreate and transform one of the old myths and infuse it with a different meaning?...Imagine being guided by your mythology that it is better to thrive and prosper, than just to survive.

But I’ve never seen the Icarus story as a lesson about the limitations of humans. I see it as a lesson about the limitations of wax as an adhesive. The cold of Titan is just an engineering problem. With the right refitting, and the right heat sources, a Cessna 172 could fly on Titan—and so could we.

8:37 Instead of narrative build-up, what if we have Icarus crawling right into the water - wings on, indifferent to flight - skipping past the story-part to lie down in the ending?

He (Daedalus) would follow that bearing, the sun on his shoulders and the past slipping away.

Some upstarts always try to get closer to the source of creation by ascending to the source's level. The story of Icarus is of course a parable about the folly of such an effort. Get too close to the sun and your hubris will get you burned. Yet in the eyes of twenty-first-century capitalist culture, which worships at the twin altars of the individual and technology, Icarus had initiative. And his melted wings do not represent some deep character flaw; he just needed better beta testers.

All great achievements arose from dissatisfaction. It is the desire to do better, to dig deeper that propels a civilization to greatness. All of us have heard the story of Icarus, the young boy who took the wings his father built for him. Wings that were meant to carry him over the ocean to freedom and used them instead for a joyride. For a brief moment Icarus felt what it was like to live like a god, to touch the sun, to soar above the common man. And for doing so he payed the ultimate price. Like Icarus we too have been given gifts: knowledge, education, experience. And with these gifts comes the responsibility of choice. We alone decide how our talents are bestowed upon the world. This is our destiny and we hold it in the palm of our hands.

I was arrogant. It's a classic story of hubris. I'm like Icarus whose wings melted before he could fuck the sun.

Summertime on Icarus First published in Vogue, June 1960, as ‘The Hottest Piece of Real Estate in the Solar System’ Collected in Tales of Ten Worlds When I wrote this story, I certainly never dreamed that one day I would have an asteroid named after me: in 1996 the International Astronomical Union rescued 4923 from anonymity. As a result, I am now the proud absentee landlord of about 100 square kilometres of real estate out around Mars. It doesn’t come anywhere near the Earth, so I’m not worried about Deep Impact type lawsuits.

If you fly too high, the sun will melt your wings. If you fly too low, the sea’s dampness will weigh you down. The story rang true to Desmond. The market’s exuberance and implosion were in league with the allegory of Icarus, but so was life. People who flew too high—who lived beyond their means and ability—were bound for failure. As were those who never took a chance. Despite

Icarus! It’s not as if I have forgotten all names. I remember Icarus. He flew too close to the sun. In the stories, though, it’s worth it. Always worth it to have tried, even if you fail, even if you fall like a meteor forever. Better to have flamed in the darkness, to have inspired others, to have lived, than to have sat in the darkness, cursing the people who borrowed, but did not return, your candle.

Many faiths believed that some day messiah would appear and end all wars, famines and even death itself. But the notion that humankind could do so by discovering new knowledge and inventing new tools was worse than ludicrous - it was hubris. The story of the Tower of Babel, the story of Icarus, the story of the Golem and countless myths taught people that any attempt to go beyond human limitations would inevitably lead to disappointment and disaster.

Love and Friendship, when you have them or lose them they are much like the Greek story of Icarus... You can make you feel like you're soaring above the clouds with happiness when you have them or feel like you are plummeting to the depths of hell with despair when you lose them.

The Bridges of Marin County harbor views back east never so panoramic but here driving the folds of mt tamalpais the whole picture smooth blue of the bay set like a table for dinner guests who seat themselves in berkeley oakland and san jose pass around delicate dishes of angel island ferry boats and alcatraz i'll save a spot for you in san francisco spread with your favorite dishes don't leave me hanging in marin dinner at eight and everyone else on time you said you'd bring the wine we waited as long as we could the food went cold witnesses said that you stood nearly an hour i imagine you crossing back and forth leaning tower to tower finally choosing the southern your wish to rest nearer the city than the driveway how long had you been letting your two selves push each other over the edge stuffing your pockets with secrets and shame weighing yourself down with cement shoes a gangster assuring your own silence i pay the toll daily wondering as the dark shroud of the bay smoothed over you that night who did you think your quiet splash was saving were you keeping yourself from the pleasures you found in the city boys in dark bars handsome men who loved you did they love you too did you wrestle with vertigo lose your sense of balance imagine yourself icarus dizzied by your own precarious perch glorious ride on flawed wings was it so impossible to live and love on both sides of the bay did you think i couldn't feel your love when it was there for me your distraction when desires divided history like the water smoothes over with half-truth story of good job and grieving widow but each time i cross this span i wonder about the men with whom i share the loss of you invisibly i sit unseen in a castro cafe wondering which men gave you what kinds of comfort delight satisfaction these men of leather metal tattoos did you know them how did you get their attention how did they get yours did you walk hand-in-hand with a man who looked like you the marlboro man double exposed did you bury a love of bondage dominance submission in the bay did you find friendship too would you and i have found the same men handsome where are you in this cafe crowd i want to love what you wouldn't show me dance with more than a slice of truth hold your halves together in my arms and rock the till i have mourned and honored the whole of you was it so impossible to cross that divide to live and love on both sides of the bay hey isn't that what bridges are for

Ancient Ways The Greek Isles are divided into several major chains lying in the Aegean, the Mediterranean, and the Ionian seas. The Cyclades chain alone includes more than two hundred islands clustered in the southern Aegean. In the southeastern Aegean, between Crete and Asia Minor, there are 163 islands known as the Dodecanese chain. Only 26 of these are inhabited; the largest of them is Rhodes, where the world-famous Colossus once stood. The Ionian chain of western Greece (named for the eponymous sea) includes the large island of Corfu. Cyprus lies in the eastern Mediterranean, south of Turkey. Today, Cyprus stands politically divided, with Turkish rule in the north, and a government in the south that remains independent from Greece. However, the island has always been linked culturally and linguistically to Greece, and it shares traditions and ways of life with the smaller islands scattered to its south and west. In the Greek Isles, history blends myth and fact. Historians glean information about the early days of the Greek Isles from the countless ancient stories and legends set there. According to Homer, battleships sailed from the harbors of Kos and Rhodes during the Trojan War. A well-known legend holds that the Argonauts sought refuge from a storm on the island of Anafi in the southeastern Cyclades. The lovely island of Lésvos is mentioned throughout the Homeric epics and in many ancient Greek tales. Tradition has it that the god Helios witnessed the island of Rhodes rising mystically from the sea, and chose it for his home. The ill-fated Daedalus and his son, Icarus, attempted to soar through the skies over the magical island of Crete, where the great god Zeus was born in a mountaintop cave. Villagers still recount how Aphrodite emerged from the sea on a breathtaking stretch of beach near the village of Paphos on Cyprus. Visitors must actually lay eyes on a Greek island to gain a full appreciation for these ancient stories. Just setting foot on one of these islands makes you feel as if you’ve stepped into one of the timeless tales from ancient Greek mythology.

When instinct tells you to pay attention and choose tenderness, do it. Community is humanity's greatest strength and community at its core is just love: work motivated by that love, comforts created out of love, bonds fed by love or at least for the desire of it. Being young is so frightening because it feels like you don't have the power to enact dynamic change. In cases like this, in stories like this, where what is happening is so inexplicable and out of control that all you can do is try to give the strong person in your life the pleasure of your time or the snack from your lunch tray or a hug in the morning or the warmth and privacy of your car during their lunch hour… If it is all you can give, it is enough. It has meaning. It is helping. I love you for trying and please, please, please, don't let time steal this part of you.

I’ve never seen the Icarus story as a lesson about the limitations of humans. I see it as a lesson about the limitations of wax as an adhesive.

These thoughts made sense at the time and eventually became fact, although only to me. This is how all madness must begin, with a simple thought that makes sense only to the mind that created it. There was no stopping it; it was inevitable. If it wasn’t that thought, it would have been another.

In the end, it’s not the clothes we wear, family we come from, or music we listen to that define us; it’s the obstacles we overcome.

Since reading about the Theory of Relativity I had become obsessed with time and spent a lot of time thinking about its truthfulness. Eventually, I believed that time does not necessarily occur in a linear fashion, one moment after another, but rather it was possible that all of time occurred at once. If this were true, there would be no past or future, only the present, and although our perceived present constantly changed, the actual present stayed the same. Therefore, it would be possible to tell the future if one merely reinterpreted the present. These thoughts made sense at the time and eventually became fact, although only to me. This is how all madness must begin, with a simple thought that makes sense only to the mind that created it. There was no stopping it; it was inevitable. If it wasn’t that thought, it would have been another.

I am afraid to write this book, but if I did not step back into that place of darkness, I would run the risk of forgetting who I was and, as a result, lose perspective on how far I’ve come. I

deep down I think we all struggle with thoughts of insignificance, and in seeking purpose in our lives we are really saying, “Look, I have the power to change things. I am significant.

Things move rapidly during manic episodes, and it is difficult to describe an episode without allowing the progression of thoughts to snowball out of control. It is my intention to simulate this process, so that you, who may never experience a manic episode, can better see how the mind is affected. Please approach it with an open mind, with the understanding that the thoughts were real to me. Imagine yourself in a world where these things are true, and you will understand the fear, confusion, and perhaps euphoria of a manic episode. What I’ve learned from the experiences explained in this book is that reality is defined by the individual; there is no such thing as a universal reality. Allow yourself to make my reality yours, and we will make this journey together. I was alone when I first made this journey.

She never let her intelligence get in the way of a good time.

The Icarus Project represents a new wave of resistance, one that shifts from the ontological questions of the definition of disease and illness, to the epistemological questions of whose stories and voices are considered in the production of psychiatric knowledge.

Take that up with my fuckup of a son. I told Icarus to deal with Aphrodite, but somehow he ‘mistook’ Pan for her.” He curses. “Don’t look at me like that, Hermes. It’s the story he spun.” “It’s not a very good one.” “It won’t happen again. My other boys aren’t half so inept.” He laughs harshly. “And Atalanta is tied up in the basement. She’s perfectly fine. I just can’t risk her interfering with what comes next. You saw her in the Ares trials. She’s formidable.” “Formidable enough to almost take down one of your prized foster sons.” “Your jokes leave something to be desired.” A pause. “You’re sure they won’t run us out of town for this?” “The laws are the laws, even if most people have no idea what little secrets from our founding the Thirteen have hidden all these years. If your boys follow my instructions to the letter, the clause will be triggered. But I never promised it would work.

Icarus is . . . I don’t know: aspiration and daring but also arrogance and hubris. It’s a cool story, the boy who flew too close to the sun so that the wax holding the feathers in his wings melted, but it’s also a great tragic metaphor for overreach, not knowing your limitations.

I go to Fethiye every summer, the corn and sunflower fields, palm trees have always attracted me with their nature and the variety of crops shines like a sun in the Anatolian geography, I think I have succumbed to this beautiful geography like icarus succumbing to the beauty of the sun. Every piece of land on the Mediterranean is created as if there should be one in the world. Every civilization that lives on the Mediterranean has left stories and artifacts to the world that cannot be made like the same. Every plant that grows and every meal that is cooked has become the foundations of our day. The clear Mediterranean shines like a sun that still continues to illuminate the world, and it makes us feel the past with its unchanging fields despite every changing place.

The computer scientists found that a huge percentage of stories fit into one of six relatively simple structures. They are, borrowing a chart from Reagan’s team: Rags to Riches (rise) Riches to Rags (fall) Man in a Hole (fall, then rise) Icarus (rise, then fall) Cinderella (rise, then fall, then rise) Oedipus (fall, then rise, then fall)

I had this real hardass for a tutorial in grad school,' Jeannine finally said. 'And this one time when I told him that maybe my project hadn't panned out because it had been too ambitious, he said that he'd always thought that the moral of the Icarus story was not 'Don't try to fly too high.' He said he thought it was 'Do a better job on the wings.

LA owed me. LA was like a beautiful painting that I could only see afterhours through the museum window. It was like a Firebird blasting some catchy tune until the light turns green and it speeds off, leaving me stuck with Katy Perry in my head the rest of the day. LA had promised me a lot and it had paid off very fucking little.

She was Bloomingdale’s, not Victoria Secret. She was vanilla, not peach. She was Paul Reiser, not Lenny Bruce. This was not my kind of chick.

By the end of the interview, George and I had clicked....I mean, we weren't BFF's spray-painting hearts and our initials on freeway underpasses or anything. But we seemed to understand each other.