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.
The Song Of Achilles, Madeline Miller
we were like g o d s at the dawning of the world, and our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other.
Achilles stood, and I watched as he strode towards them - the way the bronze buckles on his tunic threw off fire flashes, the way his dark purple cape brightened his hair to sun’s gold. He seemed so much the hero, I could barely remember that only the night before we had spit olive pits at each other, across the plate of cheeses that Phoinix had left for us.
the song of achilles / “heroism” - for @surenchaghan 🤍 (first 100 celeb)
lit meme: ten series or books v. the song of achilles by madeline miller
“Have you no memories?’ I a m m a d e o f m e m o r i e s. ‘Then speak.”
a study in foreshadowing: the song of achilles
THE SONG OF ACHILLES ➵ MADELINE MILLER.
“i swear it,” i said, lost in the high color of his cheeks, the flame in his eyes.
Achilles, it reads. And beside it, Patroclus.
“In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.” ― Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles
books read in 2018 → the song of achilles by madeline miller
I will never leave him. It will be this, always, for as long as he will let me. If I had 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. As if he had heard me, he reached for my hand. I did not need to look; his fingers were etched into my memory, slender and petal-veined, strong and quick and never wrong. “Patroclus,” he said. He was always better with words than I.
— The Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller.
@booksociety’s All By Myself Event: The Song Of Achilles by Madeline Miller.
The song of Achilles, by Madeline Miller
we were like g o d s at the dawning of the world, and our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other.
“and I thought of how many nights I had lain awake loving him in silence.”
mythology: patroclus
“Patroclus, he says, Patroclus. Patroclus. Over and over until it is sound only.”
requested by anonymous
THE SONG OF ACHILLES
“The rosy gleam of his lip, the fevered gleam of his eyes. There was not a line anywhere on his face, nothing creased or graying; all crisp. He was spring, golden and bright. Envious death would drink his blood, and grow young again.”
the song of achilles, madeline miller
