Apollo Quotes in The Song of Achilles
The thought of Troy's fall pierces me with vicious pleasure. They deserve to lose their city. It is their fault, all of it. We have lost ten years, and so many men, and Achilles will die, because of them. No more.
[…]
I will crack their uncrackable city, and capture Helen, the precious gold yolk within. I imagine dragging her out under my arm, dumping her before Menelaus. Done. No more men will have to die for her vanity.
[… ]
I am delirious, fevered with my dream of Helen captive in my arms. The stones are like dark waters that flow ceaselessly over something I have dropped, that I want back. I forget about the god, why I have fallen, why my feet stick in the same crevices I have already climbed. Perhaps this is all I do, I think, demented—climb walls and fall from them.
Her skin is whiter than I have ever seen it. “Do not be a fool. It is only my power that—”
“What does it matter?” He cuts her off, snarling. "He is dead. Can your power bring him back?”
“No," she says. "Nothing can.”
He stands. “Do you think I cannot see your rejoicing? I know how you hated him. You have always hated him! If you had not gone to Zeus, he would be alive!”
“He is a mortal,” she says. “And mortals die.”
“I am a mortal!” he screams. “What good is godhead, if it cannot do this? What good are you?”
“I know you are mortal,” she says. She places each cold word as a tile in a mosaic. “I know it better than anyone. I left you too long on Pelion. It has ruined you.”
Apollo Quotes in The Song of Achilles
The thought of Troy's fall pierces me with vicious pleasure. They deserve to lose their city. It is their fault, all of it. We have lost ten years, and so many men, and Achilles will die, because of them. No more.
[…]
I will crack their uncrackable city, and capture Helen, the precious gold yolk within. I imagine dragging her out under my arm, dumping her before Menelaus. Done. No more men will have to die for her vanity.
[… ]
I am delirious, fevered with my dream of Helen captive in my arms. The stones are like dark waters that flow ceaselessly over something I have dropped, that I want back. I forget about the god, why I have fallen, why my feet stick in the same crevices I have already climbed. Perhaps this is all I do, I think, demented—climb walls and fall from them.
Her skin is whiter than I have ever seen it. “Do not be a fool. It is only my power that—”
“What does it matter?” He cuts her off, snarling. "He is dead. Can your power bring him back?”
“No," she says. "Nothing can.”
He stands. “Do you think I cannot see your rejoicing? I know how you hated him. You have always hated him! If you had not gone to Zeus, he would be alive!”
“He is a mortal,” she says. “And mortals die.”
“I am a mortal!” he screams. “What good is godhead, if it cannot do this? What good are you?”
“I know you are mortal,” she says. She places each cold word as a tile in a mosaic. “I know it better than anyone. I left you too long on Pelion. It has ruined you.”