A part of what makes myths live is their multiplicity, the way different voices retell them in every generation. Homer survives because his poetry was outstanding, yes, but also because he's been passed down by so many by luminaries like… — Madeline Miller Copy Share Image
“This was a man who moved like the gods were watching: every gesture he made was upright and correct. There was no one else… — Madeline Miller Copy Share Image
“Patroclus, he says, Patroclus. Patroclus. Over and over until it is sound only.” — Madeline Miller Copy Share Image
“Briseis is kneeling by my body. She has brought water and cloth, and washes the blood and dirt from my skin. Her hands are gentle, as though she washes a baby, not a dead thing. Achilles opens the tent, and their eyes meet over my body. "Get away from him," he says. "I am almost finished. He does not deserve… — Madeline Miller Copy Share
Odysseus inclines his head. "True. But fame is a strange thing. Some men gain glory after they die, while others fade. What is admired… — Madeline Miller Copy Share Image
“I would like to say that all the while I waited to break out, but the truth is, I'm afraid I might have floated… — Madeline Miller Copy Share Image
“I gaped at the cold shock of his beauty, deep-green eyes, features fine as a girl's. It struck from me a sudden, springing dislike.… — Madeline Miller Copy Share Image
I found myself grinning until my cheeks hurt, my scalp prickling till I thought it might lift off my head. My tongue ran away from me, giddy with freedom. This, and this, and this, I said to him. I did not have to fear that I spoke too much. I did not have to worry that I was too slender,… — Madeline Miller Copy Share
“When he died, all things soft and beautiful and bright would be buried with him.” — Madeline Miller Copy Share Image
