Troy Quotes

Quotes tagged as "troy" (showing 1-30 of 58)
Brad Pitt
“The gods envy us. They envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.”
Brad Pitt

Brad Pitt
“Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. You will never be more lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.”
Brad Pitt

W.B. Yeats
“Why should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery, or that she would of late
Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,
Or hurled the little streets upon the great,
Had they but courage equal to desire?
What could have made her peaceful with a mind
That nobleness made simple as a fire,
With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
That is not natural in an age like this
Being high and solitary and most stern?
Why, what could she have done, being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?”
William Butler Yeats, The Collected Poems of W.B. Yeats

Roman Payne
“Rest in Peace?’ Why that phrase? That’s the most ridiculous phrase I’ve ever heard! You die, and they say ‘Rest in Peace!’ …Why would one need to ‘rest’ when they’re dead?! I spent thousands of years of world history resting. While Agamemnon was leading his ships to Troy, I was resting. While Ovid was seducing women at the chariot races, I was resting. While Jeanne d’Arc was hallucinating, I was resting. I wait until airplanes are scuttling across the sky to burst out onto the scene, and I’m only going to be here for a short while, so when I die, I certainly won’t need to rest again! Not while more adventures of the same kind are going on.”
Roman Payne, Rooftop Soliloquy

“And overpowered by memory
Both men gave way to grief. Priam wept freely
For man - killing Hector, throbbing, crouching
Before Achilles' feet as Achilles wept himself,
Now for his father, now for Patroclus once again
And their sobbing rose and fell throughout the house.”
Homer, The Iliad

Umberto Eco
“After so many years even the fire of passion dies, and with it what was believed the light of the truth. Who of us is able to say now whether Hector or Achilles was right, Agamemnon or Priam, when they fought over the beauty of a woman who is now dust and ashes?”
Umberto Eco, The Name of the Rose

Madeline Miller
“The ship's boards were still sticky with new resin. We leaned over the railing to wave our last farewell, the sun-warm wood pressed against our bellies. The sailors heaved up the anchor, square and chalky with barnacles, and loosened the sails. Then they took their seats at the oars that fringed the boat like eyelashes, waiting for the count. The drums began to beat, and the oars lifted and fell, taking us to Troy.”
Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles

Suzanne Selfors
“Troy sighed with frustration. "Let me get this straight. We're stuck in the story of Romeo and Juliet and we can't get home without a magic charm from Shakespeare's quill, which doesn't exist in this world. However, we might be able to get home when the story ends, but if Romeo and Juliet don't meet, then we don't have a story. More important, we don't have an ending."
Friar Laurence tsk tsked. He placed his speckled hand on Troy's forehead. "Bless you, my son, but a fever has muddled your mind.”
Suzanne Selfors, Saving Juliet

Suzanne Selfors
“He waved to me to be quiet, as if I were annoying background noise. "Look, whatever your name is..."
Benvolio Montague."
Right. Look, Benvolio, why don't we go outside and get a taxi? My label has a New York office. We can go there and get you a money order or something." He smile, thinking himself clever. "Come on, what do you say?"
Benvolio raised an eyebrow. "I am begining to believe that you are insane.”
Suzanne Selfors, Saving Juliet

“And there they ring the walls, the young, the lithe. The handsome hold the graves they won in Troy; the enemy earth rides over those who conquered.

Aeschylus, Agamemnon

Brenna Yovanoff
“I had only to remember that centuries before, men fell in battle for the daughter of Troy, that passions carried greater weight than decorum. It took so little to prove that human life and property are devastatingly temporary. All she had to do was lie down for a prince. They burned the city to the ground.”
Brenna Yovanoff

Megan Miranda
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" he said.
I placed my hands flat on the table and leaned across it. "Stay the hell away from him."
"Who? Oh, you mean the guy who's gonna bite it soon?"
"He's not. He's going to be fine."
He reached a hand out and placed it over my own. I snatched my hand back. He shook his head at me and whispered, "You can't stop it."
"Watch me.”
Megan Miranda, Fracture

Amy Andrews
“There were only two things he was really good at. Riding bulls and satisfying women.
But Joss wasn’t just another woman to him. Deep in his bones he knew she was special.
She was the eight-second ride. The gold buckle.”
Amy Andrews, Troy

Amy Andrews
“What do you want?” he whispered against the thick thud of her carotid pulse. “Tell me what you want, baby.”
No one had ever called her baby. The fact that it had come from a guy seven years her junior should have been ridiculous. But it wasn’t. It curled her toes.”
Amy Andrews, Troy

Amy Andrews
“His jerky breath hit her system like a drug and she was in thrall. Of his potency. And hers. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to keep going, keep touching him like this until he lost control. She wanted to bring him to his knees, this cocky young guy who called her baby and made her want things she hadn’t even realized she’d been missing.”
Amy Andrews, Troy

David Gemmell
“Beware the wooden horse, Agamemnon King, Conqueror, for it will roar to the skies on wings of thunder and herald the death of nations.”
David Gemmell, Fall of Kings

Amy Andrews
“He cocked an eyebrow and Joss’s gaze was once again drawn to the white scar that slashed it in half. “You been Googling me?”
Joss’s cheeks warmed. “I needed to know I wasn’t letting an axe murderer into our house.”
Amy Andrews, Troy

Amy Andrews
“Sex makes people dumb.”
Joss laughed. Never had truer words been spoken. “That’s deep there, cowboy.”
“Hey.” He grinned. “I have layers, you know.”
Oh yeah, he was a regular onion.”
Amy Andrews, Troy

Amy Andrews
“Do I look stupid to you? That thing is just plain crazy.”
“And when was the last time you did something crazy?”
Joss cocked an eyebrow. Was he kidding? “You have to ask?”
A slow lazy grin warmed his face. “That wasn’t crazy. That was hot.”
She rolled her eyes. He would say that, wouldn’t he? “My skirt.”
“Is long.” He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “Too long to flash anything when you fall off.”
“When huh?”
He nodded. “When.”
“I’m more worried it might end up above my head.”
He laughed but stopped abruptly when she glared at him. “I promise I won’t look when you get tossed.”
Joss glanced around her at the full restaurant. “And what about the other hundred people in here?”
“Oh come on.” He affected an air of fake severity. “Good decent southern folk would surely avert their eyes from a lady in a state of undress.”
She snorted. Half the men in here would trample over their wives for a glimpse of panties.”
Amy Andrews, Troy

Amy Andrews
“Now, grip the bull tight with your thighs.” She dutifully tensed her thighs. “Not tense. Grip. Real hard with your whole thigh.” His voice dropped, his lips pressing in closer to her ear as he murmured, “I know you know how to do that.”
A surge of heat shot from her core. Didn’t he know she was having a hard enough time sitting on the damn thing as it was without sexual innuendo messing with her equilibrium? She shot him a don’t-make-me-get-off-this-thing look but gripped.
“Atta girl,” he whispered.
Joss gritted her teeth. “Don’t push your luck, cowboy.”
Amy Andrews, Troy

Amy Andrews
“Think you can last eight seconds?”
Joss was one hundred percent, absolutely, positively certain that she would not. She was even more certain that she’d break something.
Unfortunately, nerves made her mouthy.
“Eight seconds, huh? I heard you rodeo guys had a short fuse. We have pills for that now you know?”
He laughed and his lips were suddenly close to her ear again. “I can go longer than eight seconds as you well know. But even if that were true, I promise you, doc, it’d be the best eight seconds of your life.”
Great. Now all she was going to think about while a piece of machinery spun and bucked beneath her was riding Troy in exactly the same way. Was it possible to have a mechanical-bull-induced orgasm?
That would be seriously embarrassing.
Certainly more than the good folk of Plainview would have expected from an innocent night out at the Bull Bar. There were children watching for the love of Mike.”
Amy Andrews, Troy

Amy Andrews
“She broke off the kiss again on a strangled gasp, staring at him, her chest heaving. “We’re not having sex here tonight.” Even as she said it, she rode his thigh harder. Troy’s eyes almost rolled back in his head at her barely leashed restraint, at the buck of hips that didn’t seem to buy the message her mouth was selling.
“Okay,” he agreed. If she chose to dry hump him all the way to orgasm beneath a billion stars he’d be in that.”
Amy Andrews, Troy

Amy Andrews
“I can’t have sex with you, Troy.”
“Yeah. You’ve mentioned it once or twice.”
She groaned again. “It’s just that…you’re so damn tempting.”
He grinned. At her conflict and the absurdity of it. As if they were teenagers who’d sworn a virginity pledge and had the purity rings to prove it. He rolled up on his side, supporting his head with his palm. “I’m sorry. For being so tempting.”
She snorted. “No you’re not.”
Troy laughed. “You’re right. I’m not.”
Amy Andrews, Troy

Amy Andrews
“I meant what I said about sex.”
His hand slid all the way up her leg, pushing what little skirt was still covering her out of the way, holding it in a bunch at her belly button. Her nudity was fully exposed to his gaze and he looked his fill, breathing out hard.
“Who said anything about sex?”
He leaned in, his mouth dropping to the pale slice of skin between where his hand held her skirt and the thatch of hair between her legs. She wasn’t trimmed as was the fashion among the women he usually took to his bed but Troy was not a fussy guy and here, under the stars, his head filling with the musky scent of her arousal, au naturel seemed fitting.
The ragged pant of her breathing stuttered into the air as he lazily stroked his tongue down.
Down. Down. Down.
She roused. Shifted. Raised herself up on her elbows, her abs tightening, her thighs tensing. “I think you’ll find that still counts,” she said, obviously throwing one last-ditch effort into denying herself the pleasure she so clearly craved.
He chuckled low, his warm breath fanning her belly, satisfied to feel gooseflesh stippling the soft skin. “If you think this is sex, you need to read some more textbooks, doc.”
Amy Andrews, Troy

Amy Andrews
“Lie back, baby. I’m about to fly you to the moon.”
Amy Andrews, Troy

Amy Andrews
“If anyone had told Joss last week that she’d be dry humping a twenty-seven-year-old she’d met only five days prior in the bathroom of the loft above her garage, she’d have committed them for psychiatric evaluation. But here she was and she could not get enough.
Her body throbbed with need. Maybe she needed committing?”
Amy Andrews, Troy

Amy Andrews
“You’re driving me crazy.” His ragged words were barely louder than a whisper but wicked hot against her neck.
And he didn’t sound cocky or so sure of himself now. He sounded completely at her mercy.
Like he might just die if she stopped.”
Amy Andrews, Troy

Stephen King
“She’d thought Troy stank: the corpse piles, the fires, the fish guts thoughtfully left out for the gods—gee fucking thanks, guys, just what we want—and the stupid Achaeans stomping around on the beach, refusing to wash, letting the blood cook to black in the sun and rust the joints of their armor. That was nothing compared to the inescapable reek of the modern world. She had been young and too easily impressed then, in the days before Lysol and bleach.”
Stephen King, Sleeping Beauties
tags: troy

David Markson
“...Troy itself was disappointingly small. Like little more than your ordinary city block and a few stories in height, practically.
Although now that I remember, everything in William Shakespeare's house at Stratford-on-Avon was astonishingly tiny, too. As if only imaginary people had lived there then.
Or perhaps it is only the past itself, which is always smaller than one had believed.”
David Markson, Wittgenstein's Mistress

Leylah Attar
“Please don’t look at me like that.
He lowers his gaze, picks up a strand of my hair and twirls it around his finger.
“I miss you,” he says to it.
It’s barely audible over the sound of the storm raging outside, but in here, it’s like a roaring crescendo.
Why do his words have the power to turn my world upside down?
Why do will and shame and guilt and sense fall by the wayside when I’m with him?
Because you love him, comes the answer.
You love him.
You love him.
It echoes like the clap of distant thunder.”
Leylah Attar, 53 Letters for My Lover

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