630 Quotes by Madeline Miller

I stepped into those woods and my life began.

Divine blood flows differently in each god-born child. Orpheus’ voice made the trees weep, Heracles could kill a man by clapping him on the back. Achilles’ miracle was his speed.

Once when I was young I asked what mortals looked like. My father said, “You may say they are shaped like us, but only as the worm is shaped like the whale.

Perhaps such things pass for virtue among the gods. But how is there glory in taking life? We die so easily. Would you make him another Pyrrhus? Let the stories of him be something more.

Everyone knew how they dripped with perfume, were corrupt from soft living.

Perhaps it is the greatest grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone.

Our men liked conquest; they did not trust a man who was conquered himself.

I could have told him more, of the dreams that left me bleary and bloodshot, the almost-screams that scraped my throat as I swallowed them down. The way the stars turned and turned through the night above my unsleeping eyes.

Circe,” Apollo said, and it was the greatest chime of all. Every melody in the world belonged to him.