Mary

“You're every street I've ever walked. You're the tree outside my window, you're a sparrow as he flies. You're the book that I am reading. You're every poem I've ever loved.”
― Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Aristotle and Dante Dive into the Waters of the World

“My mother made a squeaking sound that might of been either "yes" or "help".
Poseidon took it as a yes and came in.
Paul was looking back and forth between us, trying to read our expressions.
Finally he stepped forward.
"Hi, I'm Paul Blofis."
Poseidon raised an eyebrow and then shook his hand.
"Blowfish, did you say?"
"Ah, no. Blofis, actually."
"Oh, I see," Poseidon said. "A shame. I quite like blowfish. I am Poseidon."
"Poseidon? That's an interesting name."
"Yes, I like it. I've gone by other names, but I do prefer Poseidon."
"Like the god of the sea."
"Very much like that, yes”
― Rick Riordan, The Battle of the Labyrinth

“Name one hero who was happy."
I considered. Heracles went mad and killed his family; Theseus lost his bride and father; Jason's children and new wife were murdered by his old; Bellerophon killed the Chimera but was crippled by the fall from Pegasus' back.
"You can't." He was sitting up now, leaning forward.
"I can't."
"I know. They never let you be famous AND happy." He lifted an eyebrow. "I'll tell you a secret."
"Tell me." I loved it when he was like this.
"I'm going to be the first." He took my palm and held it to his. "Swear it."
"Why me?"
"Because you're the reason. Swear it."
"I swear it," I said, lost in the high color of his cheeks, the flame in his eyes.
"I swear it," he echoed.
We sat like that a moment, hands touching. He grinned.
"I feel like I could eat the world raw.”
― Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles

“Quand je vous ai dit que vous aviez une prédisposition surnaturelle aux catastrophes, ce n'était pas une invitation à me donner raison.”
― Christelle Dabos, Les Disparus du Clairdelune