Tuatha De Danann Quotes

It quickly became a tracking operation, though. My chariot could not keep up with his truck. By the time I caught up with him, his truck was parked in one of those asphalt wastelands. What are they called again"? The Tuatha De Danann have no problem asking Druids for information. That's what we're for, after all. The secret to becoming an Old Druid instead of a dead Druid is to betray nary a hint of condescension when answering even the simplest questions. "They are called parking lots," I replied. "Ah, yes, thank you. He came out of a building called 'Crussh', holding one of these potions. Are you familar with the building, Druid?" "I belive that is a smoothie bar in England." "Quite right. So after I killed him and stowed his body next to the doe, I sampled his smooth concoction in the parking lot and found it to be quite delicious". See, sentences like that are why I nurture a healthy fear of the Tuatha De Danann.

You must be thinking of stories from other cultures. Irish women tend to kick ass and do whatever they want. For exhibits A, B, and C, I give you the Morrigan, Brighid, and Flidais. Fair enough. So who's the god of cooking among the Tuatha De Danann? I don't think there is one. So the ancient Irish had a god of brewing but not cooking? We had our priorities straight.

Totally unlike the uncultured Firbolgs, the Tuatha De Danann were a capable and cultured, highly civilized people, so skilled in the crafts, if not the arts, that the Firbolgs named them necromancers; and in course of time both the Firbolgs and the later-coming Milesians created a mythology around these. The

In every corner of Ireland to the remotest headland, the stories of the Fian awake the admiration, and excite the emulation of our people. Round every hearth, in every cottage, on every hillside in Eirinn, the Fian is the enchanted word with which the seanachie awakes the instant interest and for as long as he likes holds the spellbound attention of man and child, of learned and simple, rich and poor, old and young. The best of the stories of the Fian are preserved to us in the poems of Oisin, the son of Fionn, the chief bard of the Fian, in the Agallamh na Seanorach, and many other fine poems of olden time. The Agallam na Seanorach (the Colloquy of the Ancients), by far the finest collection of Fenian tales, is supposed to be an account of the Fian’s great doings, given in to Patrick by Gisin and Caoilte — more than 150 years after. After the overthrow of the Fian, Caoilte is supposed to have lived with the Tuatha De Danann, under the hills — until the coming of St. Patrick.

The Races that occupied the land when the so-called Milesians came, chiefly the Firbolg and the Tuatha De Danann,[2] were certainly not exterminated by the conquering Milesians. Those two peoples formed the basis of the future population, which was dominated and guided, and had its characteristics moulded, by the far less numerous but more powerful Milesian aristocracy and soldiery.

But the possession of the country was wrested from the Firbolgs, and they were forced into partial serfdom by the Tuatha De Danann (people of the goddess Dana), who arrived later. Totally

The Tuatha De Danann, the people of the Goddess Danu, were one of the great ancient tribes of Ireland. They were also known as the Shining Ones, or the Fae. According to a significant manuscript, the Annals of the Four Masters, it states that they ruled Ireland from 1897 B.C. to 1700 B.C. Although, many believe they dwelled within the land thousands of years before the first recorded evidence was documented. Over time, the race vanished. Many believe they descended within the hills, streams, and mountains of Ireland.

The last colonisation of Ireland is then recorded under Anno Mundi 3500 (i.e. ca 504 BC): “The fleet of the sons of Milidh came to Ireland at the end of this year, to take it from the Tuatha de Danann, and they fought the battle of Sliabh Mis with them on the third day after landing.”23 The children of Milidh, known to us as the Milesians, had landed unobserved in the mouth of the river Slaney in what is today the county of Wexford, from where they marched to Tara, the central seat of government.

Nuada of the Silver Hand brought Claiomh Solais (The Sword of Light), from Gorias the flame-bright city that is in the south of the Tuatha De Danaan world. He was the leader of the Tuatha De Danann and King of Ireland. In legend, the sword glowed with a bright light, hence its name. It was irresistible in battle.

In a famed battle at Southern Moytura (on the Mayo-Galway border) it was that the Tuatha De Danann met and overthrew the Firbolgs. There has been handed down a poetical account of this great battle — a story that O’Curry says can hardly be less than fourteen hundred years old — which is very interesting, and wherein we get some quaint glimpses of ancient Irish ethics of war (for even in the most highly imaginative tale, the poets and seanachies of all times, unconsciously reflect the manners of their own age, or of ages just passed).