Circe

by Madeline Miller

But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. Such a constellation was he to me.

Humbling women seems to me a chief pastime of poets. As if there can be no story unless we crawl and weep.

Perhaps any child with only his mother for company would have been so imaginative.

But perhaps no parent can truly see their child. When we look we see only the mirror of our own faults.

thought once that gods are the opposite of death, but I see now they are more dead than anything, for they are unchanging, and can hold nothing in their hands.