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“Perhaps he makes a choice. He chooses the memory of her. That’s why he turns. He doesn’t make the lover’s choice, but the poet’s.”
― Céline Sciamma, Portrait of a Lady on Fire

“Eurydice, forgive the Winds, forgive the Sun, forgive the Moon, forgive the Stars, forgive the Rain, for never loving you as I will.”
― Michan Bakhuis, Lament to Eurydice

“Eve with her apple, biting in. Eurydice, smiling when the snake bit her ankle, then again, when he fatally tripped on his desire to keep her small and by his side. Things done wrong for the right reasons.

No one is in charge of us, but us.”
― Laurie Perez, The Power of Amie Martine

“The scene is grim, a dank corridor rising out of Elysium, back to human climes and textures. I feel the man sensing what he’s done and the catastrophic change in the air around him. Grief as swift as a blade that cuts the cord of your innocence but leaves you stranded, still alive and pulsing while she stays stuck in death. Or did she? Now I’m chasing down Eurydice as she disappears into that tunnel. The story of Orpheus no longer interests me; I’ve been there, done that.
What I want to know is how she took it, what she wanted to happen in that moment.”
― Laurie Perez, The Look of Amie Martine

“The shade of Orpheus now fled below,
and recognized all he had seen before;
and as he searched through the Elysian Fields,
he came upon his lost Eurydice,
and passionately threw his arms about her;
here and now, they walk together, side by side,
or now he follows as she goes before,
or he precedes, and she goes after him;
and now there is no longer any danger
when Orpheus looks upon Eurydice.”
― Ovid, Metamorphoses