The Minotaur Quotes

“There is a certain quality of light to be found only in midsummer in the South, as day, slipping into dusk, acquiesces to the filament, the bulb, the porch light; this seductive light is beautiful when it washes across dry cement, the sidewalk and stoop. The light spilling from the phone booth softens and cleanses all that it touches. It's a forgiving and almost protective light. The Minotaur is drawn to it from across the parking lot.”
― Steven Sherrill, The Minotaur Takes a Cigarette Break

“For as long as the Minotaur can remember - no, for much longer than he can remember - he has risen every day aware of the possibility of change. Some would call him gullible. The truth is, there are days on end when he would gladly barter some of his hope for the arrogant cynicism of people like Shane and Mike. In the backseat the Minotaur's wristwatch pounds incessantly at the thin bones of his arm, resonates up through the joints, rides roughshod over his ribs and battles with the rhythms of his heart.”
― Steven Sherrill, The Minotaur Takes a Cigarette Break

“Unngh,' the Minotaur says.

What he means is that every past is littered and scarred. What he means is that the present moment is the only moment that pulses, that breathes. What he means is that he himself is capable of great tenderness but has also done great harm. The Minotaur knows that sometimes mercy requires expedience. Haste. Sometimes it can't be about how much a thing hurts.”
― Steven Sherrill, The Minotaur Takes His Own Sweet Time

“A life as long as the Minotaur's - that half-man half-bull, and fully scapegoat - a life that long doubles back on itself from time to time. Caves in. The minuscule tectonics of being alive, among the wholly human, always unsettling. The world shifts continuously beneath his feet. The Minotaur came from misspent want, from the planked birth canal, came from blood-drenched stone walls, from yellow thread. Belayed by desire, the beast pulled himself along. Pulled himself through centuries, through zeitgeists and kitchens, through paradigms and junkyards. Pulls still. Home.”
― Steven Sherrill, The Minotaur Takes His Own Sweet Time

“If asked the Minotaur might say that he thinks gravity pulls harder at night. That the whole earth, on its wobbly axis, whips quicker through a sunless sky. It sure feels that way. But nobody is going to ask.”
― Steven Sherrill, The Minotaur Takes His Own Sweet Time

“It is Tuesday, near dusk. Night creeps in and strips colors from the scene. Everything is purplish. There have been many Tuesdays in the Minotaur‘s life. He wonders how this one will end.”
― Steven Sherrill, The Minotaur Takes His Own Sweet Time

“The Minotaur lacks confidence in his penmanship. Over time the Minotaur has learned to read, has even been able to make the slow laborious transition from one language to another as cultures die off and fade away as he moves from place to place. But the Minotaur has never been able to rise above rudimentary skills. Most books seem ridiculously small, and the physical act of finding a comfortable sight line over his massive snout frustrates him. Nevertheless the Minotaur is haunted by the idea that books and reading might make those vast stretches of time that loom before him more bearable.”
― Steven Sherrill, The Minotaur Takes a Cigarette Break

“As the Minotaur walks to his car Buddy charges the fence, snorting, slobbering and barking maniacally. The Minotaur is no longer afraid of Buddy, and he knows the dog means no real harm. But they have an unspoken understanding. Each of them has a history; each clings to an image, however diminished, of himself and his place in the world.”
― Steven Sherrill, The Minotaur Takes a Cigarette Break

“I had not fooled myself with false hope. I was a goddess, and he a mortal, and both of us were imprisoned. But I pressed his face into my mind, as seals are pressed in wax, so I could carry it with me.”
― Madeline Miller, Circe

“The Minotaur comes and goes. He has for centuries. And there have been many bridges.

The Minotaur pauses, as he walks, midway through the covered bridge that serves, in more ways than one, as the entrance to Old Scald Village. He rests his heavy snout against one of the wooden trusses. The Minotaur likes this portal, both ingress and egress, a breach in the terribly human construct of time.”
― Steven Sherrill, The Minotaur Takes His Own Sweet Time