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“We should live here.’ After just two days of the possibilities of Venice, I said, ‘We should live here.’ And Tom’s answer was, ‘We should fly to the moon.’ But he was smiling.”
― My Policeman
― My Policeman
“No man is worth more than another, wherever he is from."
"But what if he is your friend? Or your brother? Should you treat him the same as a stranger?"
"You ask a question that philosophers argue over. He is worth more to you, perhaps. But the stranger is someone else's friend and brother. So which life is more important?"
We had been silent. We were fourteen, and these things were too hard for us. Now that we are twenty-seven, they still feel too hard.
He is half my soul, as the poets say. He will be dead soon, and his honor is all that will remain. It is his child his dearest self. Should I reproach him for it? I have saved Briseis. I cannot save them all.
I know, now, how I would answer Chiron. I would say: there is no answer. Whichever you choose, you are wrong.”
― The Song of Achilles
"But what if he is your friend? Or your brother? Should you treat him the same as a stranger?"
"You ask a question that philosophers argue over. He is worth more to you, perhaps. But the stranger is someone else's friend and brother. So which life is more important?"
We had been silent. We were fourteen, and these things were too hard for us. Now that we are twenty-seven, they still feel too hard.
He is half my soul, as the poets say. He will be dead soon, and his honor is all that will remain. It is his child his dearest self. Should I reproach him for it? I have saved Briseis. I cannot save them all.
I know, now, how I would answer Chiron. I would say: there is no answer. Whichever you choose, you are wrong.”
― The Song of Achilles
“I laughed. ‘For a policeman, you’re very romantic.’
‘For an artist, you’re very afraid,’ he said.”
― My Policeman
‘For an artist, you’re very afraid,’ he said.”
― My Policeman
“I have done it," she says. At first I do not understand. But then I see the tomb, and the marks she has made on the stone. A C H I L L E S, it reads. And beside it, P A T R O C L U S.
"Go," she says. "He waits for you."
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.”
― The Song of Achilles
"Go," she says. "He waits for you."
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.”
― The Song of Achilles
“When he died, all things soft and beautiful and bright would be buried with him.”
― The Song of Achilles
― The Song of Achilles
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