Odin Quotes

“It is a pity that there are no big creatures to prey on humanity. If there were enough dragons and rocs, perhaps mankind would turn its might against them. Unfortunately man is preyed upon by microbes, which are too small to be appreciated.”
― T.H. White, The Book of Merlyn: The Unpublished Conclusion to The Once & Future King

“For men must never feel a cause is hopeless-- men must never feel an enemy cannot be beaten!”
― Stan Lee

“It is He who makes the lightning flash upon you, inspiring you with fear and hope, and gathers up the heavy clouds. The thunder sounds His praises, and the angels, too, in awe of him. He hurls his thunderbolts at whom He pleases. Yet the unbelievers wrangle about God.”
― Anonymous, القرآن الكريم

“She smoothed the long sleeve of her tight, orange t-shirt. “What? You’ve never seen a woman wear more than one shirt before?”

Odin’s mouth closed and opened a few times before words finally came out. “She’s like a fuckin’ seven layer burrito someone forgot was in the back of the fridge for six months.”

She had to laugh. How could she not with such vivid imagery coming from someone who dressed like he was going on an unholy crusade at any moment?”
― Jennifer Turner, Eternal Seduction

“The story is that Odin travelled from home and came to a place where nine slaves were cutting hay. He asked if they wanted him to sharpen their scythes. They agreed. Then he took a whetstone from his belt and sharpened the scythes. To them it seemed that the scythes now cut much better, and they wanted to buy the whetstone. Odin set this price on the stone: he asked that whoever wanted to buy it should give what he thought was reasonable. They all said they wanted it and each asked to buy it, but instead he threw it into the air. They all scrambled to catch it with the result that they slit each other’s throats with their scythes.”
― Snorri Sturluson, The Prose Edda: Norse Mythology

“A cowardly man
thinks he will ever live,
if warfare he avoids;
but old age will
give him no peace,
though spears may spare him.”
― Benjamin Thorpe, Pocket Havamal

“A foolish man
is all night awake,
pondering over everything;
he than grows tired;
and when morning comes,
all is lament as before.”
― Benjamin Thorpe, Pocket Havamal

“By Woden, God of Saxons,
From whence comes Wensday, that is Wodensday,
Truth is a thing that ever I will keep
Unto thylke day in which I creep into
My sepulchre”
― William Cartwright

“Nine is the mythical number of the Germanic tribes. Documentation for the significance of the number nine is found in both myth and cult. In Odin's self-sacrifice he hung for nine nights on the windy tree (Hávamál), there are nine worlds to Nifhel (Vafprudnismal 43), Heimdallr was born to nine mothers, Freyr had to wait for nine nights for his marriage to Gerd (Skírnismál 41), and eight nights (= nine days?) was the time of betrothal given also in the Þrymskviða. Literary embellishments in the Eddas similarly used the number nine: Skaði and Njörðr lived alternately for nine days in Nóatún and in Þrymheimr; every ninth night eight equally heavy rings drip from the ring Draupnir; Menglöð has nine maidens serve her (Fjölsvinnsmál 35ff), and Ægir had as many daughters. Thor can take nine steps at Ragnarök after his battle with the Midgard serpent before he falls down dead. Sacrificial feasts lasting nine days are mentioned for both Uppsala and Lejre and at these supposedly nine victims were sacrificed each day.”
― Rudolf Simek, A Dictionary of Northern Mythology

“We need to embrace our anger. By that I mean, we want to recognize the sacredness of anger. Many deities from all around the world depict 'anger' in a sacred way. Kali, The Morrigan, Hades, Set, Mars, Minerva, Lugh, Thor, Vulcan, Odin, and Fion Mac Cumhail are all deities that express a divine kind of anger. They are the avengers, hunters, protectors, and warriors; Gods and Goddesses of death and slaughter.”
― Laurence Galian, Beyond Duality: The Art of Transcendence

“I know that I hung
on the windy tree
Nine full nights,
Pierced by a spear
offered to Odin
Myself to myself
of which none knows
Upon that tree
Where its roots run...”
― John Michael Greer, The Occult Book: A Chronological Journey from Alchemy to Wicca

“My Einherjar have a saying: Some days you are the ax, some days you are the decapitated head. I like it so much, I’m having T-shirts made for the Hotel Valhalla gift shop.”
― Rick Riordan, 9 From the Nine Worlds

“When the Æsir saw Odin flying, they placed their vats in the courtyard, and when Odin entered Asgard he spat the mead into the vats. It was such a close call, with Suttung almost catching him, that he blew some of the mead out of his rear. No one paid attention to this part, and whoever wanted it took it; we call this the bad poets’ portion.”
― Snorri Sturluson, The Prose Edda: Norse Mythology

“But Odin had a trick up his sleeve. For his final question to Vafthrudnir, he asked, "And what, wise giant, did Odin whisper in the ear of Balder, before that great son of his was burned on the funeral pyre?"
Vafthrudnir became livid with rage. "Now I see who you really he said grimly, "for only Odin himself could know the answer that question." He clenched his teeth and his fists, and closed his eyes. When he opened them, however, his face had an expression of melancholy acceptance, and he said, "Now for the first time in my life I have lost a contest of lore. But my consolation will be that I lost it to Odin, the most knowledgeable being there is.”
― Daniel McCoy, The Viking Spirit: An Introduction to Norse Mythology and Religion

“Then spoke Third: 'Odin is highest and most ancient of the Æsir. He rules all things, and mighty though the other gods are, yet they all submit to him like children to their father. Frigg is his wife, and she knows men's fates though she does not prophesy, as it says here that Odin himself spoke to the As called Loki:
"Mad you are Loki, and out of your wits; why will you not be silent, Loki? All fates I believe Frigg knows, though she herself does not pronounce."
'Odin is called All-father, for he is father of all gods. He is also called Val-father [father of the slain], since all those who fall in battle are his adopted sons. He assigns them places in Val-hall and Vingolf, and they are then known as Einheriar. He is also called Hanga-god [god of the hanged] and Hapta-god [god of pris- oners), Farma-god [god of cargoes], and he called himself by various other names on his visit to King Geirrod.”
― Anthony Faulkes, Edda: Skaldskaparmal (Set of 2 Copies)

“Thor looked out on the two great rolling rivers of cloud. It was a bad way for one to go, cold and suffocating. Yet if he went that way he could keep on his shoulder the hammer which he would not leave in another's charge. He stept out into the Cloud River that flowed by the Rainbow Bridge, and with his hammer upon his shoulder he went struggling on to the other river.
Odin, Tyr, and Baldur were beside Urda's Well when Thor came struggling out of the Cloud River, wet and choking, but with his hammer still upon his shoulder. There stood Tyr, upright and handsome, leaning on his sword that was inscribed all over with magic runes; there stood Baldur, smiling, with his head bent as he listened to the murmur of the two fair swans; and there stood Odin All-Father, clad in his blue cloak fringed with golden stars, without the eagle-helmet upon his head, and with no spear in his hands.”
― Padriac Colum, THE CHILDREN OF ODIN: The Book of Northern Myths

“Norse mythology hints at Odinic cults, with Odin being worshipped through a combination of ecstatic and seemingly shamanistic rituals. From the eddic poem The Sayings of the High One ( Hávamál ), he is said to have hanged himself in a sacrificial ritual on a tree. Barely surviving this ordeal, Odin gains arcane knowledge, including the use of runes, the ancient Scandinavian alphabet sometimes used for magical purposes. In the poem, Odin chants :
I know that I hung
on the wind-swept tree
all nine nights
with spear was I wounded
and given to Odin,
myself to me,
on that tree which no one knows
from which roots it grows.

Bread I was not given,
no drink from the horn,
downwards I glared;
up I pulled the runes,
screaming I took them,
from there I fell back again.

- excerpt from Jesse L. Byock's Introduction and Notes, of Sturluson's Prose Edda.”
― Snorri Sturluson, The Prose Edda: Norse Mythology

“Under the root *( of the Ash Yggdrasil ) that goes to the frost giants is the Well of Mimir.
Wisdom and Intelligence are hidden there, and Mimir is the name of the well's owner. He is full of wisdom because he drinks of the well from the Gjallarhorn.
All-father went there and asked for one drink from the well, but he did not get this until he gave one of his eyes as a pledge.
As it says in The Sibyl's Prophesy :
Odin, I know all,
where you hid the eye
in that famous
Well of Mimir.
Each morning
Mimir drinks mead
from Val-Father's pledge.
Do you know now or what ?
( The Sibyl's Prophesy. 28 )”
― Snorri Sturluson, The Prose Edda: Norse Mythology

“Kavanagh continued his walk in the direction of Mr. Churchill's residence. This, at least, was unchanged,⁠—quite unchanged. The same white front, the same brass knocker, the same old wooden gate, with its chain and ball, the same damask roses under the windows, the same sunshine without and within. The outer door and study door were both open, as usual in the warm weather, and at the table sat Mr. Churchill, writing. Over each ear was a black and inky stump of a pen, which, like the two ravens perched on Odin's shoulders, seemed to whisper to him all that passed in heaven and on earth. On this occasion, their revelations were of the earth. He was correcting school exercises.”
― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Kavanagh

“I mounted the stairs to my pavilion and sank onto Hlidskjalf, the magic throne from which I can peer into the Nine Worlds. The seat cradled my posterior with its ermine-lined softness. I took a few deep breaths to focus my concentration, then turned to the worlds beyond.
I usually begin with a cursory look-see of my own realm, Asgard, then circle through the remaining eight: Midgard, realm of the humans; the elf kingdom of Alfheim; Vanaheim, the Vanir gods’ domain; Jotunheim, land of the giants; Niflheim, the world of ice, fog, and mist; Helheim, realm of the dishonorable dead; Nidavellir, the gloomy world of the dwarves; and Muspellheim, home of the fire giants.
This time, I didn’t make it past Asgard. Because goats.
Specifically, Thor’s goats, Marvin and Otis. They were on the Bifrost, the radioactive Rainbow Bridge that connects Asgard to Midgard, wearing footy pajamas. But there was no sign of Thor, which was odd. He usually kept Marvin and Otis close. He killed and ate them every day, and they came back to life the next morning.
More disturbing was Heimdall, guardian of the Bifrost. He was hopping around on all fours like a deranged lunatic. “So here’s what I want you guys to do,” he said to Otis and Marvin between hops. “Cavort. Frolic. Frisk about. Okay?”
I parted the clouds. “Heimdall! What the Helheim is going on down there?”
“Oh, hey, Odin!” Heimdall’s helium-squeaky voice set my teeth on edge. He waved his phablet at me. “I’m making a cute baby goat video as my Snapchat story. Cute baby goat videos are huge in Midgard. Huge!” He spread his hands out wide to demonstrate.
“I’m not a baby!” Marvin snapped.
“I’m cute?” Otis wondered.
“Put that phablet away and return to your duties at once!”
According to prophecy, giants will one day storm across the Bifrost, a signal that Ragnarok is upon us. Heimdall’s job is to sound the alarm on his horn, Gjallar—a job he would not be able to perform if he were making Snapchat stories.
“Can I finish my cute baby goat video first?” Heimdall pleaded.
“No.”
“Aw.” He turned to Otis and Marvin. “I guess that’s a wrap, guys.”
“Finally,” Marvin said. “I’m going for a graze.” He hopped off the bridge and plummeted to almost certain death and next-day resurrection. Otis sighed something about the grass being greener on the other side, then jumped after him.
“Heimdall,” I said tightly, “need I remind you what could happen if even one jotun snuck into Asgard?”
Heimdall hung his head. “Apologetic face emoji.”
I sighed. “Yes, all right.”
― Rick Riordan, 9 From the Nine Worlds

“A movement in Hotel Valhalla’s garden caught my eye. I looked closer. And immediately wished I hadn’t.
Legs spraddled and wearing nothing but a pair of leather short-shorts, Thor was bending, twisting, and squat-farting. Strapped to his ankle was a device shaped like a valknut, a design of three interlocking triangles.
“What in the name of me is my son doing?” I asked in bewilderment.
“Who, Thor?” Heimdall looked over his shoulder. “He’s warming up for a jog through the Nine Worlds.”
“A jog. Through the Nine Worlds,” I repeated.
“Yep. If he logs ten million steps on his FitnessKnut—that thing around his ankle—he earns a cameo appearance on a Midgard television show. That’s why I had his goats. He said they’d slow him down.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Not really. Those goats aren’t exactly speedy. Unless they’re plummeting, that is.”
“Not what I meant. . . . Never mind.” I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Thor! Thor!”
Heimdall tapped his ears. “He’s listening to rock.”
“Rock ’n’ roll?”
“No, just rock. Boulders, gravel, stones.”
― Rick Riordan

“Thankfully, a messenger raven swooped into the pavilion just then to summon me to the thane meeting.
“At last,” I muttered as I headed to the Thing Room. “A moment of sanity.”
I opened the conference room door to find my trusted advisors twirling in their plush leather chairs.
“Whoever spins the longest without getting sick wins!” one of the Eriks yelled.
“Thanes!” I roared. “Come to order!”
My advisors quickly pulled their chairs to the table (except for Snorri Sturluson, who staggered to the nearest trash bin and threw up).”
― Rick Riordan, 9 From the Nine Worlds

“Another example of the same attitude, this time on a less cosmic and more humble scale, comes from the life of the warrior-poet Egil Skallagrimsson. According to his saga, toward the end of his life, one of his sons died, after the others had died before him. Such was the depth of Egil's grief that he planned to kill himself, but his surviving daughter convinced him instead to use his poetic talent to compose a memorial poem for his lost children. Egil's poem is called The Wreck Of Sons (Sonatorrek). In it, Egil bemoans his lot in life and curses Odin, his patron god, for having made him suffer so much. But Egil finds that this suffering has also carried a gift within it, for his anguish inspires him to compose better poetry than ever before. He lets loose an eloquent cry of both despair and joy, or at least contented acceptance. The final three stanzas read:

I offer nothing
With an eager heart
To the greatest of gods,
The willful Odin.
But I must concede
That the friend of the wise
Has paid me well
For all my wounds.

The battle-tested
Foe of the wolf
Has given me
A towering art,
And wits to discern
In those around me
Who wishes well,
Who wishes ill.

Times are dire,
Yet glad is my heart,
Full of courage,
Without complaint.
I wait for the goddess
Of dirt and of death
Who stands on the headland
To bear me away.”
― Daniel McCoy, The Viking Spirit: An Introduction to Norse Mythology and Religion

“Then spoke Gangleri: 'Where is the chief centre or holy place of the gods?'
High replied: 'It is at the ash Yggdrasil. There the gods must hold their courts each day.'
Then spoke Gangleri: 'What is there to tell about that place?'
Then said Just-as-high: 'The ash is of all trees the biggest and best. Its branches spread out over all the world and extend across the sky. Three of the tree's roots support it and extend very, very far. One is among the Æsir, the second among the frost-giants, where Ginnungagap once was. The third extends over Niflheim, and under that root is Hvergelmir, and Nidhogg gnaws the bottom of the root. But under the root that reaches towards the frost-giants, there is where Mimir's well is, which has wisdom and intelligence contained in it, and the master of the well is called Mimir. He is full of learning because he drinks of the well from the horn Giallarhorn. All-father went there and asked for a single drink from the well, but he did not get one until he placed his eye as a pledge. Thus it says in Voluspa:
I know it all, Odin, where you deposited your eye, in that renowned well of Mimir. Mimir drinks mead every morning from Val-father's pledge. Know you yet, or what?”
― Anthony Faulkes, Edda: Skaldskaparmal (Set of 2 Copies)

“Then spoke Gangleri: 'There is a very large number of people in Val-hall. I declare by my salvation that Odin is a very great lord when he commands such a great troop. But what entertainment do the Einheriar have when they are not drinking?'
High said: 'Each day after they have got dressed they put on war-gear and go out into the courtyard and fight each other and they fall each upon the other. This is their sport. And when dinner-time approaches they ride back to Val-hall and sit down to drink, as it says here:
All Einheriar in Odin's courts fight one another each day. They select their victims and from battle ride, sit the more at peace together.”
― Anthony Faulkes, Edda: Skaldskaparmal (Set of 2 Copies)

“Thy life runs out,
The Gods they are wroth with thee;
Draw near if thou must ;
Odin thou shalt see.”
― Padriac Colum, THE CHILDREN OF ODIN: The Book of Northern Myths

“When earth is called the wife of Odin, the mother of Thor, when wind is styled the son of Fornjót and the sea is conceived as Ran, the wife of Ægir, the myths are not anthropomorphism or personification in the modern and Alexandrian sense. Human-likeness is joined to the other qualities of natural phenomena or, more truly expressed, human appearance enters as a quality among other qualities into the soul of earth, wind and sea, but it does not in the least interfere with the impersonal workings of the forces of nature. There is no contradiction between subject and verb in the scald's description of the winter gales: “Fornjót's Sons began to whirl,” nor is there really any breach of common-sense in a storm scene such as this: “The gusts carded and twined the storm-glad daughters of Ægir.” The moon gives birth, the earth is a mother, stones bring young into the world, and that is to say that these beings beget, conceive and are delivered, for thus all procreation takes place under the sun. But this does not imply that earth must transform itself to a human being and seek a couch to bring forth its children. The little we know as to our forefathers' practical relations with the world about them indicates, as will soon appear, that they did not appeal to the objects of nature as pseudo-personalities; like their primitive brethren all over the world, they tried to win the friendship and power of animals and trees and stones by much surer means. When the poet lets Frigg send messengers about to fire and water, iron and all kinds of ore, to stones, earth, trees, sicknesses, beasts, birds, to get them to swear they will never harm Balder, he has plainly no idea in his mind of such messengers going out to knock at the doors of nymphs and demons; his hearers must have been familiar with a method of appealing directly to the things themselves, to the souls.”
― Vilhelm Grønbech, The Culture of the Teutons: Volumes 1 and 2

“Now Harry,” she began, “Magic is in itself a form of religion, but there are powerful beings who can be considered as gods and goddesses. Herne the Hunter, Morrigan, Cernunnos, Epona are a few British deities just like Odin, Thor, Zeus, Hera, Isis, Osiris, etc. are deities of other times and countries. Even the more modern gods like the Christ, Buddha, Allah, etc. are powerful beings or representations of the ‘Uncaused Cause’ as the creator of all things is sometimes called.”
― Nigelcat1, Sorry About That Harry

“By sacrificing half of his physical vision, Odin was able to gain higher vision. He traded lower perception for the ability to perceive the non-physical. Where will you go to find knowledge? What price will you pay? What sacrifice will you make? Knowledge is not for the faint-hearted. The highest knowledge is only for the gods. Are you one of them, or do you shun all difficult challenges and remain bound to the earth as a rotting carcass like all the others? The twilight of empiricism is here. Odin finally realized that he needed no eyes, and no senses at all, to understand reality. Reason and logic were all he required.”
― Thomas Stark, Holenmerism and Nullibism: The Two Faces of the Holographic Universe

“Now the gods, whose principal residence was held at Byzantium, perceived that Odin had tarnished the honour of his divinity by these various lapses from dignity and reckoned he should quit their fraternity. They ensured that he was ousted from his pre-eminence, stripped of his personal titles and worship, and outlawed, believing it better for a scandalous president to be thrown from power than desecrate the character of public religion; nor did they wish to become involved in another’s wickedness and suffer innocently for his guilt.”
― Saxo Grammaticus, The Danish History, Books I-IX: Legends and Chronicles of Ancient Denmark