Circe

by Madeline Miller

But there was something in me that was sick of fear and awe, of gazing at the heavens and wondering what someone would allow me.

There was no honesty in regretting what had given me my life.

had been old and stern for so long, carved with regrets and years like a monolith. But that was only a shape I had been poured into. I did not have to keep it.