mythology

Thus Arthur achieved the adventure of the sword that day and entered into his birthright of royalty. Wherefore, may God grant His Grace unto you all that ye too may likewise succeed in your undertakings. For any man may be a king in that life in which he is placed if so he may draw forth the sword of success from out of the iron of circumstance. Wherefore when your time of assay cometh, I do hope it may be with you as it was with Arthur that day, and that ye too may achieve success with entire satisfaction unto yourself and to your great glory and perfect happiness.

Oh. Now you are not so afraid, then?"Kitty opened her mouth, indignant. "I was not afraid before! I was... shocked. How many times do you see your orphanage roommate be able to turn someone into stone?""Every time I look in the mirror.

There is at least one truth in every myth.

What they teach you as history is mythology, and true mythology is far from fantasy - every kind reveals true fragments of our real history. A bulk of our real history can be found in Egyptian and Greek mythology. Yes, myths reveal to us worlds of other dimensions that make up our true reality. History books teach us that the minds of the past operated on the same frequency, dimension, or level of consciousness as we do now. Not true at all.

Sir Ector looked into the fire, fidgeting with something in his pocket. "I have something for you," he said at last. "It was your mother's." And he drew out the thing in his pocket and held it up to her. The ring Blanche took from him was antique silver, cabochon-set with a glimmering moonstone. Her mother's ring! Blanche folded it into her hand and held tightly to the only thing her parents had left her.

I did not do it for you, sire." Gawain was deadly serious now. "Death comes to us and all mortals. I shall still lose you one day. But Logres! The only perfection under heaven would fall if I could not save you.

A knight will give a lady a ring from his hand and take a kiss from her lips, when he wishes to love her and serve her all his days," she recited, as she had when he was small. She pulled the ring from the chain and held it out to him. "This ring is the knight's who swore to serve me. Take it. One day you may find a lady to wear it.

Oh, Perceval, a falcon is born to hunt, and so are you. One day you will hunt indeed--but not yet." "Why? Am I not ready?"She looked at him sadly and said, "Give me a little longer.

Then this is for you," Galahad said, and drew a knife from the pouch at his belt. It was an odd little thing, T-hilted and small enough to fit into a woman's hand. Its translucent blade, only an inch and a half long, was bound with scrolling bronze wire to the bone hilt. "Have a care. Obsidian is sharper than anything else in the world, sharp enough to make sunlight bleed.

He grinned. __o not fear. I am here to serve you, as I promised._ Despite the fit of schoolgirl giggles that had seized her in Carbonek when he first proposed to be her knight, his assurance annoyed her now. __ou inspire me with confidence,_ she said, honey-sweet. __ith a few more years and experience, you would make a capable guardian, I__ sure._ __nd you an amiable ward,_ he said, bowing again.

In the dim sunset Perceval looked the glade over and said, __oes your lady wife think so little of sending you out on deadly errands?_ Sir Gareth unstrapped the blanket from behind his saddle. __t__ our fourth child. I__e grown accustomed to it._ __f course,_ Perceval said with a grin, __ven dragonfire might burn less hot than my lady aunt__ temper._ Sir Gareth cuffed Perceval across the ear. __or that piece of insolence, youngster, you take the first watch. And be glad you are so tender in years that I dare not risk my honour upon you in single combat to prove my Lynet as sweet-tempered as she should be.

Blanchefleur felt a quick rush of affection for her. When the world frowned, Branwen went on smiling. There was a heart of steel under all that froth and bubble.

It was like listening to the universe in motion. Planets spinning on their appointed courses, the lives of men intersecting and parting, the unimaginable harmony of the human body itself in hierarchy and order, were all implied in the song, but something greater as well: the genius of the composer, which must surely approach the miraculous. Perceval closed his eyes and was lost in the weaving music.

Do not deceive yourself, Gawain. There are black places in the heart of every man.

How you must hate Logres,_ she said in a dry mouth. __ate Logres?_ He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. __here is an anger that is deserved, Blanche. Tell me. Look me in the eye, if you can, and tell me__o my face__hat Logres is without sin.

Chiron looked surprised. __ thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles.

There was carpet under Blanchefleur__ feet and the scent of clean and delicate things in her nostrils__erfume, babies, soap, and tea. Homesickness hit her like a clenched fist; this was worse than memory.

That night she dreamed about the King again. She stood in a riverside meadow between greenwood and castle. Overhead the sun shone gilt in a sky like powdered lapis and struck golden sparks from the King's blood-red dragon banner.