Quotes About Love

Achilles returns to the tent, where my body waits. He is red and red and rust-red, up to his elbows, his knees, his neck, as if he has swum in the vast dark chambers of a heart and emerged, just now, still dripping.

He is half my soul, as the poets say>"

Adesso ogni minuto era una goccia di sangue e amore che andava persa.

He was half my soul, as the poets say

I know. They never let you be famous and happy." He lifted an eyebrow. "I'll tell you a secret." "Tell me." I loved it when he was like this. "I'm going to be the first." He took my palm and held it to his. "Swear it." "Why me?" "Because you're the reason. Swear it." "I swear it," I said, lost in the high color of his cheeks, the flame in his eyes. "I swear it," he echoed.

But the ache for him is stronger than my anger. I want to speak of something not dead or divine. I want him to live.

midwife gave my mother a pillow to hold instead of me. My mother hugged it. She did not seem to notice a change had been made.

This morning he had leapt onto my bed and pressed his nose against mine. "Good morning," he'd said. I remembered the heat of him against my skin.

He is half of my soul, as the poets say...

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

when he was gone would i be like achilles, wailing over his lost lover patroclus? i tried to picture myself running up and down the beaches, tearing at my hair, cradling some scrap of old tunic he had left behind. crying out for the loss of half my soul

He smiled. "Now I know how to make you follow me everywhere." The sun sank below Pelion's ridges, and we were happy.

That night I lie in bed beside Achilles. His face is innocent, sleep-smoothed and sweetly boyish. I love to see it. This is his truest self, earnest and guileless, full of mischief but without malice. He is lost in Agamemnon and Odysseus' wily double meanings, their lies and games of power. They have confounded him, tied him to a stake and baited him. I stroke the soft skin of his forehead. I would untie him if I could. If he would let me.

Parecíamos dioses en el alba del mundo y nuestro gozo era tan deslumbrante que no éramos capaces de ver otra cosa que el uno al otro.

No había en el mundo palabras que yo quisiera oír más que las que él se callaba

Nos abrazamos mientras pensaba en cuántas noches había permanecido tendido despierto en aquella estancia, amándole en silencio.

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 know him in death, at the end of the world

Its king, Peleus, was one of those men whom the gods love: not divine himself, but clever, brave, handsome, and excelling all his peers in piety.

Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.

But then I see the tomb, and the marks she has made on the stone. A C H I L L E S, it reads. And beside it, P A T R O C L U S.

Idylle hatte ich unsere gemeinsame Zeit bezeichnet. Illusion hätte es vielleicht besser getroffen.

Yes. But it is not his fault. I forgot to say I wished him for a companion." 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.

The sailors dropped to their knees. I would not be able to bear it, I thought. I would seize him, hold him to me. But I only embraced him a final time, pressing hard as if to set him into my skin. Then I watched him take his place among them, stand upon the prow, outlined against the sky. The light darted silver from the waves. I lifted my hand in blessing and gave my son to the world.

The only thing that was clear was Glaucos' face, his handsome brow and earnest eyes, wet a little from his griefs but smiling always when he looked at me.