I feel like I could eat the world raw.

Madeline Miller

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He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.

Madeline Miller

Mots clés war mythology

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Where there is greed, there is hope.

Madeline Miller

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It was almost like fear, in the way it filled me, rising in my chest. It was almost like tears, in how swiftly it came. But it was neither of those, buoyant where they were heavy, bright were they dull.

Madeline Miller

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and when he moved it was like watching oil spread across a lake, smooth and fluid, almost vicious

Madeline Miller

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The ship's boards were still sticky with new resin. We leaned over the railing to wave our last farewell, the sun-warm wood pressed against our bellies. The sailors heaved up the anchor, square and chalky with barnacles, and loosened the sails. Then they took their seats at the oars that fringed the boat like eyelashes, waiting for the count. The drums began to beat, and the oars lifted and fell, taking us to Troy.

Madeline Miller

Mots clés troy achilles

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He is more worth to you, perhaps. But the stranger is someone else's friend and brother. So which life is more important?

Madeline Miller

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Later Achilles would play the lyre, as Chiron and I listened. My mother's lyre. He had brought it with him.
'I wish I had known,' I said, the first day when he showed it to me. 'I almost did not come, because I did not want to believe it.'
He smiled. 'Now I know how to make you follow me everywhere.

Madeline Miller

Mots clés the-song-of-achilles

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And perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone.

Madeline Miller

Mots clés quotes

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Chiron had said once that nations were the most foolish of mortal inventions. “No man is worth more than another, wherever he is from.”

“But what if he is your friend?” Achilles had asked him, feet kicked up on the wall of the rose-quartz cave. “Or your brother? Should you treat him the same as a stranger?”

“You ask a question that philosophers argue over,” Chiron had said. “He is worth more to you, perhaps. But the stranger is someone else’s friend and brother. So which life is more important?”

We had been silent. We were fourteen, and these things were too hard for us. Now that we are twenty-seven, they still feel too hard.

He is half of my soul, as the poets say. He will be dead soon, and his honor is all that will remain. It is his child, his dearest self. Should I reproach him for it? I have saved Briseis. I cannot save them all.

I know, now, how I would answer Chiron. I would say: there is no answer. Whichever you choose, you are wrong.

Madeline Miller

Mots clés life truth love philosophy choices fair wise-words

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