Dionysus Nietzsche Novels & Stories

I watched as the guy left and the one thing that keep sticking in my mind that he seemed to be a strange guy but I’m not sure why that is. “What’s wrong baby girl?” “Who is that guy?” “That’s Dionysus, and he’s the god of wine and pleasure. He also the son of Zeus. Why don’t you go pick out a ring that you like to get.”

I shake my head at him silently and brush my fingers against the side of my neck, signaling to Marco that I need him to step in. Originally, I thought Dionysus was working for Zeus, but if Katherine was really the one who asked him to be at the event, does Zeus even know Dionysus is here? I don’t need to question it. From the smell of the contents, if I drink whatever's in that glass, I’m going to die. You would think the God of Wine and Ecstacy would do a better job of hiding poison in his own creation.

Just as Alexa were trying to control her tears, a chilling presence approached them. It was none other than Dionysus, or Dio as he liked to be called, the cousin of Jean and Gilbert. Dio, even in his edwardian era dark blue 'costume' was still a striking figure, with piercing green eyes and white hair still untied wildly, made him look like a vampire. Alexa never loses an awe seeing his facial feature almost mirrored Gilbert's. His usually icy demeanor had a strange warmth when it came to Alexa. They had met earlier in the night of the bloody Reverie Dinner party and had quickly formed an unlikely friendship.

"An offer with a god usually leaves one dead." "Oh no," Dionysius gave a little shake of his head. "I am not one for blood. I profess peace and freedom. In every sense Loukas. Humour me." "Then what do you want?" Loukas had made a deal with the god of trickery and managed to escape unscathed, albeit a small suicidal scene, so he thought he would escape this one easily. How stupid. "I want you and Leonidas to have sex," Dionysus said simply. "And I want to watch."

Well, I lie, shamelessly lie, the best cocktails in Moscow! "They say that Dionysus got into a barrel full of wine and could not get out of it, because he drank everything to the drop! - the unknown person from the apartment laughed. - The devil, do Not confuse! It was Diogenes! Astarte corrected. - No, Diogenes in the name of philosophical ideas sat in barrel! And this alcoholic simply could not not hangover! – said the devil.

Sabrina muttered alone. “That’s good if you know.” “You’re lying.” But Cole didn’t even consider the option. He didn’t buy that third-rate excuse at all. “I am not. Rescuing poor whores from serfdom and granting them new lives? No, Dionysus was a God of Entertainment. He was perfect. Too perfect. I found myself enjoying someone having sex with another. That’s where Dionysus slips in. I am a voyeur. I enjoy watching, not engaging.”

"Boss, time is your enemy here. You have finally coped with Master Hermes' death for the last months. And, I saw you suffer by blaming yourself for his death, not even having the opportunity to save him from Zara or not having the opportunity to talk to him before he closed his eyes. I know you blame yourself over and over again. And, do you think that was what Master Hermes wanted you to do in the very first place? Blaming yourself again and again? Being miserable and in agony? I don't think so. I bet my whole life he is very sad in heaven right now because of your life decisions." "Do you really think he's up there?" Dionysus asked, looking up at the dark sky. The coldness of the night was

“If you’re not an ordinary man, then who are you?” The corners of the man’s lips suddenly lifted. A smirk appeared on his face. Dante’s eyes closed, then opened with a certain radiance. “I am Dionysus. I can be reborn after experiencing death. How could I possibly leave you?” Those decisive words were mixed with the strong scent of alcohol. It created the illusion that Dante was really a God of Wine. His good looks were intoxicating. His charm was as wild as a grapevine. Once tied, it won’t let you go.

“Twelve thousand years old.” Dionysus was so shocked and couldn’t believe what he heard that he remained in a spot for a very long time. When he finally regained himself, he thought of his one hundred- and twenty-year-old self compared to the man and he gulped. Indeed, he is not even worth to call a child beside the man but an infant, maybe an embryo? “What happened? I mean, if you have lived that long, shouldn’t you be the wisest?” “T’s a long story. I may be that old but I have only truly lived for two thousand years.”

Karila frowned, swallowing hard because she was so deeply absorbed in that story and the ironies that mythological information brought her. "All quotes to the god Dionysus leave, at certain times, implicit and explicit his will as a man who was attracted to other men as well, despite having loved Ariadne as his great love... Whether it was the ease of persuasion through his own desires or not, one passage stands out to emphasize this fact: 'Dionysus was anxious to go down to hell, but he did not know the way. So a certain man named Prosimnus promised to tell him...but not without some reward...paid in advance. favor that was not very decent, though for Dionysus it was decent enough. This bou