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“I will not be like a bird bred in a cage, I thought, too dull to fly even when the door stands open.”
― Madeline Miller, Circe

“Eurydice Speaksâ€�

How will I know you in the underworld?
How will we find each other?

We lived for so long on the physical earth�
Our skies littered with actual stars
Practical tides in our bay�
What will we do with the loneliness of the mythical?

Walking beside ditches brimming with dactyls,
By a ferryman whose feet are scanned for him
On the shore of a river written and rewritten
As elegy, epic, epode.

Remember the thin air of our earthly winters?
Frost was an iron, underhand descent.
Dusk was always in session

And no one needed to write down
Or restate, or make record of, or ever would,
And never will,
The plainspoken music of recognition,

Nor the way I often stood at the window�
The hills growing dark, saying,

As a shadow became a stride
And a raincoat was woven out of streetlight

I would know you anywhere.”
― Eavan Boland, A Woman Without a Country: Poems

“It is easy to forget, but stories need not always have a purpose. We are quick to say that folktales have a moral or a lesson or a creed. But most of the stories that have survived the ages are told for one purpose only, and that purpose is to say this: "Being human is difficult. Here is some evidence.”
― Lindsey Drager, The Archive of Alternate Endings

“Not all stories speak to all listeners, but all listeners can find a story that does, somewhere, sometime. In one form or another.”
― Erin Morgenstern, The Starless Sea