“And uncontrollable laughter broke from the happy gods
as they watched the god of fire breathing hard
and bustling through the halls.”

— Homér , Iliad

I. 599–600 (tr. Robert Fagles); hence the expression "Homeric laughter".
Iliad (c. 750 BC)

Original

Ἄσβεστος δ' ἄρ' ἐνῶρτο γέλως μακάρεσσι θεοῖσιν ὡς ἴδον Ἥφαιστον διὰ δώματα ποιπνύοντα.

Adopted from Wikiquote. Last update June 3, 2021. History

Help us to complete the source, original and additional information

Do you have more details about the quote "And uncontrollable laughter broke from the happy gods as they watched the god of fire breathing hard and bustling thr…" by Homér?

Homér 217

Ancient Greek epic poet, author of the Iliad and the Odyssey

Related quotes

“Her breath a warm fire
In every lovers heart
A mistress to magicians
And a dancer to the gods”

Cat Stevens (1948) British singer-songwriter

Angelsea
Song lyrics, Catch Bull at Four (1972)

“I think about God, yes, and I wonder if there is a God. And if there is a God, will God please help me through my hard trips.”

Brian Wilson (1942) American musician, singer, songwriter and record producer

OffBeat interview (2005)

“Good humor and laughter are far too wonderful not to come straight from the heart of God.”

Beth Moore (1957) American evangelist

“Isn’t it only through laughter that we become one with the gods and thus can endure life and can overcome all the horror and waste and suffering here on earth? …Isn’t it only through laughter we can stay human?”

James Clavell book Shōgun

Source: Shōgun

“God was not to him the impassive Creator, a Nero from his tower of brass watching the burning of the City to which he himself has set fire. God was fighting. God was suffering. Fighting and suffering with all who fight and for all who suffer. For God was Life, the drop of light fallen into the darkness, spreading out, reaching out, drinking up the night.”

Romain Rolland (1866–1944) French author

Jean-Christophe (1904 - 1912), Journey's End: The Burning Bush (1911)
Context: God was not to him the impassive Creator, a Nero from his tower of brass watching the burning of the City to which he himself has set fire. God was fighting. God was suffering. Fighting and suffering with all who fight and for all who suffer. For God was Life, the drop of light fallen into the darkness, spreading out, reaching out, drinking up the night. But the night is limitless, and the Divine struggle will never cease: and none can know how it will end. It was a heroic symphony wherein the very discords clashed together and mingled and grew into a serene whole! Just as the beech-forest in silence furiously wages war, so Life carries war into the eternal peace.
The wars and the peace rang echoing through Christophe. He was like a shell wherein the ocean roars. Epic shouts passed, and trumpet calls, and tempestuous sounds borne upon sovereign rhythms. For in that sonorous soul everything took shape in sound. It sang of light. It sang of darkness, sang of life and death. It sang for those who were victorious in battle. It sang for himself who was conquered and laid low. It sang. All was song. It was nothing but song.