“Living with him was like standing beside the sea. Each day a different colour, a different foam-capped height, but always the same restless intensity pulling towards the horizon.” — Madeline Miller Copy Share Image
“Odysseus, son of Laertes, the great traveller, prince of wiles and tricks and a thousand ways. He showed me his scars, and in return let me pretend that I had none.” — 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… — Madeline Miller Copy Share Image
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… — Madeline Miller Copy Share Image
“When he died, all things soft and beautiful and bright would be buried with him.” — Madeline Miller Copy Share Image
