Quotes from Madeline Miller

Everything they reach for slips from their grasp." A chill shivered across my skin. "How do they bear it?" "As best they can.

It was a little like spell-work, I thought, for your hands must be busy, and your mind sharp and free.

Ne diyebilirim? Dünya adil bir yer de?il.

Estoy hecho de recuerdos.

A thousand was the number Agamemnon's bards had started using; one thousand, one hundred and eighty-six didn't fit well in a line of verse.

Las voces de los muertos tienen el poder de enloquecer a los vivos.

He was unfailingly polite, offering food and wine, a bedroll, but he did not linger. What did I expect? I had loosed my wrath on him as if I were my father. One more thing that I had ruined.

Onu sevseydim çoktan çekip gitmi? olurdu, oysa kaç?nmam tekrar tekrar geri dönmesine neden oluyordu.

will never leave him. It will be this, always, for as long as he will let me.

On her chest shone her famous aigis, leather armor fringed with golden threads. It was said to be made from the skin of a Titan that she had flayed and tanned herself.

Nuestros muertos acuden en pos de su venganza sin considerar la presencia de testigos.

Yüreklerimizde gerçekte ne oldu?u bilinseydi kaç?m?z affedilirdi?

Agamemnon's face had broken into dark red blotches of shock. It seemed like the greatest arrogance or stupidity not to have guessed he might be at fault, but he had not.

Mi exilio podría aplacar la ira de los vivos, pero no la de los difuntos.

All the merchants who passed through these waters wanted the rich city of Knossos as their customer, and Minos knew it. He welcomed them with wide, safe moorings and agents to collect for the privilege of using them. The inns and brothels belonged to Minos also, and the gold and jewels flowed like a great river to his hands.

Birbirimizde yaralar açt?k ama hiçbiri ölümcül de?il.

You knew this would come. I cannot rot all my life underground, with nothing of my own.

It is mostly will. Will and work.

The horse's muscular legs ended in flesh, the equally muscular torso of a man. I stared—at that impossible suture of horse and human, where smooth skin became a gleaming brown coat.

At night, the moon silvered smaller and smaller. I stared until I could see it even when I closed my eyes, the yellow curve bright against the dark of my eyelids. I hoped that it might keep the visions of the boy at bay.

At least, I told myself, it was not their brothers who would have bragged and fought and hunted down my wolves, but of course, that was never a real danger. Sons were never punished.

I listen to his breath, warm upon the night air, and somehow I am conforted. He does not mean that it does not hurt. He does not mean that we are frightened. Only that: we are here. This is what it means to swim in the tide, to walk the earth and feel it touch your feet. This is what it means to be alive.

I stepped onto the ship and lifted my hand. He lifted his. I had not fooled myself with false hope. I was a goddess, and he a mortal, and both of us were imprisoned. But I pressed his face into my mind, as seals are pressed in wax, so I could carry it with me.

not when I stood in his blood.