Nietzsche Apollonian And Dionysian Novels & Stories

A tiny moan escaped her, quiet as a secret. Apollo’s expression darkened. Adorable, he thought. The softness of the word struck him like a slap. He despised it. Despised that she could pull something like that out of him simply by breathing. He was the Devil. The King of Hell. He did not have tender thoughts about trembling mortal bodies tied to his cross. And yet the thought lingered, like ash that refused to scatter. She was no longer merely enduring him. Her body had begun to anticipate him. Respond to him without command. That was the difference between domination and possession. One could be forced. The other… was cultivated.

As Dain’s lips twitched, the severity of his frown lessened and softened his eyes. “Even as it took over your body and poisoned your mind, you fought. Even when it was seconds away from killing me and taking everything from you, you fought. Without any help, you not only resisted it’s pull, you sent it scattering. I can only imagine what dark hole it scrambled into to lick its wounds before returning to Nadia’s side. Darling, it’s your strength that we envy, and I’m afraid it’s that envy that affects Apollo so much.” He explained, his expression gentle though shame and admiration were currently waging war within his head. “The horror’s Apollo committed…if he had a fraction of your strength,

The words of the enigma were bothering him, though. "In my case, the order is different. First is the calamity. Second is the heroism. And finally, it is the wrath," Apollyon hesitantly commented as he recalled his and his parents' past. The terrifying beast attacking the village, his parents sacrificing themselves unhesitatingly to protect him and the Tribe, frames of that disastrous night with the full moon were continuously playing inside his mind. Like a fairy tale with moving pictures, a silent story without a happy end. And then, there was the wrath... What could a better prime example exist other than his burning thirst for revenge to define its meaning?

he countered, "but that is... what's the human expression? Next to the point?" "Beside the point," I ground out. "Yes!" Uisdean smiled in delight. "Words again, so lovely. It is beside the point because Nietzsche was a poet and also a composer." "What?" I blinked; totally unprepared for this fairy to know more than I did about a human. "I don't believe Nietzsche would be as offended by our feast as you are," Uisdean mused. "I think he would agree with me when I say; you're letting your slave morality cloud your reason."

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.”

“I’ve told you many and many times… Don’t believe that stupid and ridiculous superstition, Apollo. It totally doesn’t make sense… It’s absolutely irrational… By believing in that stupid and ridiculous superstition, we’ll be stuck forever on our spots at the moment. We won’t dare to take any risks; we won’t dare to step ahead; and we won’t dare to go out from our comfortable zones all these times.” “I indeed don’t want to go out from these comfort zones all these times, Hansen. Going out from the comfortable zones in order to be more successful, and being too greedy and too ambitious – both of them have merely got the slight as well as the remarkably-thin differences. You have to distinguish

"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 bounty to which Dionysus was invited was a favor of lust, and to which the god was disposed to grant the request, so that, in the event of his

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.”

Lux My body went cold at the mention of his name. His scent isn’t here though, but maybe things like that change in the spirit world. But he’s the last person I want to be around. If Rion’s words were true then why would I be in front of Apollo. I try not to stutter as I ask< “Wh…what’s your name?” He chuckles before answering me, “Apollo or Apollon whatever you prefer. I’m the god of prophecy and oracles and music, song, and poetry. Of archery, healing, plague, and disease, and the protection of young!”

The young goddess took up her bow then flew away to stalk her game. Apollo, she knew, was hunting, so she made his path cross that of Daphne, a mountain nymph, daughter of the river god Penaeus. Then, fluttering above them, invisible, she pulled back her bowstring and shot Apollo with the dart of love then Daphne with the arrow of indifference. Immediately, the poison took effect on the god, polluting his ichor with a flaming passion. His heart pounded as his stomach rolled with craving. Then he felt his feet sprinting and sprinting, going towards the maiden.