Quotes About Love

Daedalus did not long outlive his son. His limbs turned gray and nerveless, and all his strength was transmuted into smoke. I had no right to claim him, I knew it. But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. Such a constellation was he to me.

I was giddy feeling his first kicks and I spoke to him every moment, as I crushed my herbs, as I cut clothes for his body, wove his cradle out of rushes. I imagined him walking beside me, the child and boy and man that he would be.

I let him hold me, let him press us length to length so close that nothing might fit between us.

He is half of my soul,

And you think to steal time from the Fates?" "Yes." "Ah." A sly smile spread across his face; he had always loved defiance. "Well, why should I kill him? He's done nothing to me." For the first time then, I felt a kind of hope.

I had painted his history in bright, bold colours and he had fallen in love with my art. And now it was too late to go back and change it.

I can smell him. The oils that he uses on his feet, pomegranate and sandalwood; the salt of clean sweat; the hyacinths we had walked through, their scent crushed against our ankles. Beneath it all is his own smell, the one I go to sleep with, the one I wake up to.

and our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other.

I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the Earth. I would him in death, at the end of the world

Therapon was the word he used. A brother-in-arms sworn to a prince by blood oaths and love. In war, these men were his honor guard; in peace, his closest advisers. It was a place of highest esteem, another reason the boys swarmed Peleus' son, showing off; they hoped to be chosen.

I had not fooled myself with false hope. I was a goddess, and he was 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.

I would know him in death and in the end of the world.

What do children always hope? To make their parents shine with pride. I knew how painful the death of that hope could be.

I had hoped…" He trailed off, but the rest was clear. What do children always hope? To make their parents shine with pride. I knew how painful the death of that hope could be.

Every moment he was with me, I felt a rushing in my throat, which was my love for him, so great sometimes I could not speak.

He was beautiful - like a god, the poets would say.

Yet some say lovers are mad.

We reached for each other, and I thought of how many nights I had lain awake in this room loving him in silence. Later, Achilles pressed close for a final, drowsy whisper. "If you have to go, you know I will go with you." We slept.

He was watching me, his eyes as deep as earth. "Will you come with me?" he asked. The never-ending ache of love and sorrow. Perhaps in some other life I could have refused, could have torn my hair and screamed, and made him face his choice alone. But not in this one. He would sail to Troy and I would follow, even into death. "Yes," I whispered. "Yes.

You are a golden goddess, beautiful and kind. If I had such a sister, I would never let her go.

Podría reconocerle por el modo en que respiraba o en que pisaba el suelo. Le reconocería en el fin del mundo, incluso en la muerte.

he buired his face in his hands and did not speak. i held him and whispered all the bits of broken comfort i could find.

You chose her," he says. "Over me." "Over your pride." The word I use is hubris. Our word for arrogance that scrapes the stars, for violence and towering rage as ugly as the gods.

I will never leave him. It will be this, always, for as long as he will let me. If I had words to speak such a thing, I would have. But there were none that seemed big enough for it, to hold that swelling truth.