Aqsa

“I felt him looking at me, admiring his work. He had not carved me like this, but he was imagining doing it. A beautiful statue, named The Supplicant.”
― Madeline Miller, Galatea

“After, in the torchlight, he wondered at the marks on me, the red around my neck, and the purple on my arms and chest where he had gripped me. He rubbed at them, as though they were stains, not bruises. “The color is perfect,” he said, “look.” And he held up the mirror so I could see. “You make the rarest canvas, love.”
― Madeline Miller, Galatea

“It was dark, and there was only a little moon, which I took to mean that the goddess, if she existed, smiled on me.”
― Madeline Miller, Galatea

“How is Paphos, my love?”
“Fine,” he said. Just that ugly, nothing word.”
― Madeline Miller, Galatea