There is a myth at the heart of things and some element of genius in the heart of each person.
Myths grew from the ancient tradition of passing on knowledge orally, the only means of doing so before writing.
They’re narratives of human existence. They helped our ancestors interpret reality, solve problems, and guided social behavior. They structured natural and social information into patterns using symbols, and embedded fact into story form. This increased their impact, making information meaningful and personally involving-not just cold, detached facts.
Is there an intelligent man or woman now in the world who believes in the Garden of Eden story? If you find any man who believes it, strike his forehead and you will hear an echo. Something is for rent.
Myth is much more important and true than history. History is just journalism and you know how reliable that is.
When stupidity of today joins with the stupidity of yesterday it becomes a myth; my myth a stupidity glorifies itself.
He carried her over the Owl Creek mountain range without stopping,
I must-to be honest-add that my ministry almost certainly helped me through my adolescence by giving me something larger than myself to be frightened about.
Stars are tragic. Most of the stars are nothing but reminders of love gone horribly wrong, or men challenging the gods.
It’s a good country for myths. Things seem to take root here.
A myth… is a metaphor for a mystery beyond human comprehension… A myth, in this way of thinking, is not an untruth but a way of reaching a profound truth.