Epic Poetry Quotes

Quotes tagged as "epic-poetry" Showing 1-29 of 29
Lord Byron
“I live not in myself, but I become
Portion of that around me: and to me
High mountains are a feeling, but the hum
of human cities torture.”
George Gordon Byron, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage

Virgil
“Vera incessu patuit dea.
(The goddess indubitable was revealed in her step.)”
Virgil, The Aeneid

Edmund Spenser
“Yet gold all is not, that doth gold seem,
Nor all good knights, that shake well spear and shield:
The worth of all men by their end esteem,
And then praise, or due reproach them yield.”
Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene, Book Two

MEDVGNO
“Irony is the kid who steals music and is stolen by the music.”
MEDVGNO, THE AWFUL RIFFMAKER

John Milton
“th' unconquerable will,/ And study of revenge, immortal hate,/ And courage never to submit or yield/ And what is else not to be overcome?”
John Milton, Paradise Lost

Nicole Gulla
“I'm like a toy to her, a toy that someone has promised her. Maybe not her favorite, but still hers.”
Nicole Gulla, The Lure of the Moon

Elias Lönnrot
“Craftsman Ilmarinen wept
Every evening for his woman,
Weeping sleepless through the nights
And fasting through the days;
In the early hours complaining,
Every morning sighing for her,
Lamenting for his lovely lost one,
For his dear one in the grave.
For a month he swung no hammer,
Did not touch the copper handle,
and the clinking forge was silent.

Said the craftsman Ilmarinen:
"I poor fellow, do not know
How to live or how survive;
Sitting up or lying down
Nights are long and time is tedious.
I am troubled, low in spirit.

'Lonely are the nights now,lonely
And the mornings dreary, dreary.
In my sleeping I am troubled,
But the waking is the saddest.
It's not for evening that I'm lonely,
Not for morning that I'm dreary,
Not for olden times lamenting,
But I'm lonely for my loved one,
Dreary for the missing of her,
Lamenting for my dark-browed lovely.

'Often in these days it happens,
Happens in my midnight dreaming
that I stretch my hand out touching,
touching something that is nothing...”
Elias Lönnrot, The Kalevala

Mark Morneweg
“The one young officer swung his horse around, came
back, and leaned over into Penthe's face.
She did not look at him.
"Are you free, Miss?"
"I am free. Free from everyone, but my lover. He has
stolen my heart and soul forever.”
Mark Morneweg, Penthe & Alphonse

“Chapter One: The Dawn and the Dread

Heartbeat, heartbeat comes from Valhallan way,
To meet down in judgment, to ply its trade.
Two →swords← to join in worthy cross,
Actions to be rendered, one to be lost.

She did come now from ’yond northern slope,
A day of reckoning did she again once hope.
A devout meeting was her qwesterly bane,
To stay her hand was to go insane.

St. Kari of the Blade to meet her past,
A wicked enemy, peerless of match.
Rode Kari she her charger on down,
Past the Dead Land where Gaul sat crowned.

A killing job, yea, she desired to lastly kill,
To set things right so her heart might lie still.
Upon the mist and roaring plain,
She entered in, a soul uncontained.

A fierce wind in deed, and forever freed,
Enemies she annihilhates (’tis hur’ creed).
Her own advanced guard of a sort,
Multitudes to follow in her report.

Know this Valkyrie from on cold,
An ancient maiden soft and bold.
A warrior spirit from Ages past,
A fragmented mind like broken glass.

Solid in stature this eternal framed being,
Yet crippled within from internaled bleedings.
A sword saint so refined in the poetic art,
A noble character yet with a banshee’s heart.

Rhythmed horse now to the beats,
Kari emboldened amid the sleet.
Beyond the mountain she does come,
Unto southern fields wherein rules hot sun.

Far from that murderous Deadlands ground,
The land up swells; the dead still abound.
Traverses she those bygones of leprous civilizations
Those cities crumbled by the exhalted of oblivions.

Stark traces etched now bare in the land,
That are no more again, save dust in the hand.
A cool stream now in desert sans
(Does more good when one is damned).

Stopped she her mount to admire the flow,
A lovely stream with skeletons packed below.

Blue air whisps; dragon flied motion.
Flintsteel striking!!! Sparked of commotion.

Cold water chortles rushtish with tint,
Told of past carnage, it whetted her glint.
Fallen warriors, they are no more,
Swirls and eddies mark their discord.

Gurgled shouts slung and gathered,
Faces glazed while steel lathered.
Refreshing though it was to her mouth,
She smelled an air; she flared about.

Came up that ridge of loud, sanded hill,
Below a man and his half-score of kills.
Kari’s eyes waxed in smug contempt,
Possibilities ran deep with no repent . . .

On Kari, Valkyrie, Cold Steel Eternity Vol. II”
Douglas Laurent

Thomas C. Foster
“Novels aren’t about heroes. They’re about us. The novel is a literary form that arose at the same time as the middle class in Europe, those people of small business and property who are neither peasant nor aristocrat, and it has always treated of the middle class. Both lyric and epic poetry grew out of a time that was elitist, a time that believed in the innate rate of royalty to rule and the rest of us to amount to not very much. Hardly surprising, then, that both forms lean toward the aristocratic in subject matter and treatment. The novel, on the other hand, isn’t about them; it’s about us.”
Thomas C. Foster, How to Read Novels Like a Professor: A Jaunty Exploration of the World's Favorite Literary Form

Steven A.  Williams
“Let bricks of truth fill the skies and send their walls of conformity crashing down
And let the heavens echo with the blows of our liberation”
Steven A. Williams, Black

“There is no force in Earth or Heaven above,
No, not even the damned of Hell can stop relentless Love. ---Kari, The Valkyrie, Chapter Sixteen,
Valley of the Damned Epic Martial Poem/Allegory”
douglas m laurent

“There is no force in Earth or Heaven above,
No, not even the damned of Hell can stop relentless Love.

---Kari, The Valkyrie, Chapter Sixteen,
Valley of the Damned Epic Martial Poem/Allegory”
douglas m laurent

D.J. LeMarr
“Lucifer unbound his absolution
His purpose took unstoppable form
A wyrm whose brilliance blinded
Tenacity burned as radiant as the Almighty
Lucifer remembered this so vividly
A fond memory of when God stood thunderstruck”
D.J. LeMarr, The Keys of Death and Hades

Vita Sackville-West
“I sing the cycle of my country's year,
I sing the tillage, and the reaping sing,”
Vita Sackville-West, The Land

Vita Sackville-West
“I sing once more
The mild continuous epic of the soil”
Vita Sackville-West, The Land

Vita Sackville-West
“Prune my ambition to the lowly prayer
That I may drive the furrow of my tale
Straight, through the lives and dignities I know.”
Vita Sackville-West, The Land

Mark Morneweg
“He thought of Penthe.
He sensed a flutter, her smile, a look, just her
hair, wild, passing by.
He watched the fire, in the fog, for some time. It was the
entrance to Hades, where Odysseus visited Achilles...”
Mark Morneweg, Penthe & Alphonse

“The Cutting Edges of all Eternities combined were not as sharp as those of the Blade-Saint Valkyrie’s, who loved much and who pierced deep, far beyond infinity’s meager grasp for those whom she loved.

On Valkyrie Kari, Cold Steel Eternity, Vol. II (Valley of the Damned)”
douglas laurent

“Games that are played and always won,
Often bring the tragedy of victory
And songs that must be sung.

Kari, Garden of the Dragons, Vil. III”
Douglas Laurent

“Games that are played and sometimes lost,
Often bring the joy of loss that learns our course.

Valkyrie Kari, Garden of the Dragons, Vol. iii”
Douglas Laurent

“Samurai: I have searched for you a very long time.
Kari: Do not waste breath, kill. It is our way here.
Samurai: Not before I have my say, Corpse-eater.
Kari: No wonder you took so long to find me.

on Valkyrie Kari,, Garden of the Dragons, Vol, iiii”
Douglas Laurent

“Even the Empyrean Vaults, the highest of Heavens and the lowest Helks of the Abyss could not contain the Valkyrie’s love, whose a’spiraling ability to end refrains upon the point of her own edged soul out-paced even the stop-clocks of all Nethereternity. And thus, by her own delicate hand, sought to destroy the solitary stalking evil so that multitudes might live.

—On Valkyrie Kari, Garden of the Dragons”
douglas m. laurent

Yousef Alqamoussi
“Before my father's grave, I sit alone.
Upon some sheets of grimy paper, I write
My tale, the most dreaded of known tales,
A tale whose grisly facts poured out
Across the plains of vast Arabia.”
Yousef Alqamoussi, The Massacre of Heartbreak Morrow

Yousef Alqamoussi
“O my people, whenever ye drink
A drop of water, remember me.
Or if ye hear of butchered men
And headless stiffs, surrender thee;
For I am the one who lies in shreds
Where my cruel foes dismembered me!”
Yousef Alqamoussi, The Massacre of Heartbreak Morrow

Daniel Scott Westby
“Undiluted, he is lesser than all
the Lesser Prophets combined
Now the disease we will find
is his cure, his call, and mankind’s downfall
—The Fallo Terminus (LVI)”
Daniel Scott Westby, Goblin Winter: of Puppet Kings and Telling Sins

Jorge Luis Borges
“El hecho es que la participación de un dragón en la epopeya de Beowulf parece disminuirla a nuestro ojos. Creemos en el león como realidad y como símbolo; creemos en el minotauro como símbolo, ya que no como realidad; pero el dragón se el menos afortunado de los animales fabulosos.”
Jorge Luis Borges, Literaturas germánicas medievales

“No force can oppose Love in Earth or Heaven above, No, not even the damned of Hell can stop relentless Love.

—Valkyrie Kari, Chapter Sixteen
Valley of the Damned
Original Quote”
douglas laurent

“Summer spirit, now she closes book’s end,
Days of youth spent, carefree with friends.
Kari plays now to that what she does not wish,
Lost summers days and angelic youth a’ missed.
Seasons do change and children grow up,
Passing through lives, life never stops.
Endless years, bleak they the mind,
Adventures of youth, throttle in time.
Desires entwine, one grows old,
Love loses her grasp, love slips from her hold.
Bygone dreams, sleep they soundly by,
Hopes for another child, not her soul-self I.
Grasped for never, dreams never learn to fly
(Within one’s dungeon, the darkest place to die).
And Winter’s chill, lays she to rest,
Dreams unobtained, fallen in the quest.
Kari knew she was but a dream, solo in its flight,
Ne’er taking wing again to caress innocence’s light.
And to live and live as she once is and now,
Stands she forever, stranded on time’s fallowed ground.
The love she lost she can never now have,
Graspless eternity plucked burning from her hands.
Love forsaken, the summer, silent and high,
Tears shed for what was once and not now, I.
Dreamless hopes far long spent,
Lie shallow within, deep strength relents.
A hollow traverse of endless life,
Lives she the knowing of eternalness light.
Aye, silent dreams slip they the day’s long night,
To tell of loves once beholden now lost in her sight.
In love’s abandonment, Kari, spills she away,
To dream upon those clouds again on some somber, summer day.
Thus, before evening rusts corrode the golden days,
Before innocence is raped and youth spirited away,
Before night blossoms forth, and day forgets day,
Summer’s love requests of us that we all do stay–
To hear a tale one has long since heard before,
To tell our souls twice over now and forevermore–
Graves are full of those who never lived but could,
Heaven and Hell are packed with those who knew they should,
And eternity, relentless eternity, brims with those that would.
--Garden of the Dragons c h. 23”
douglas laurent