The Song of Achilles

by Madeline Miller

That is how they knew she was quite stupid. Brides did not smile.

‘Are you frightened?’ I asked. The first call of a nightingale in the trees at our backs. ‘No,’ he answered. ‘This is what I was born for.’

The all too familar succumbing to the expectations or pressures of what others want/expect you to be. If everyone says it it must be true. (?)

They had fallen almost comically, from too far away to see their faces or pain.

I guess this is how wars are today. Drones. Bombs. Faceless victims we can dehumanise.