The Song of Achilles

by Madeline Miller

It was almost like fear, in the way it filled me, rising in my chest. It was almost like tears, in how swiftly it came. But it was neither of those, buoyant where they were heavy, bright where they were dull.

For who can be ashamed to lose to such beauty?

remembered how hard a thing indifference was to bear.

We are men only, a brief flare of the torch.

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 the sun.