DEATH . . . And now you are here to fight for this woman. You know her promise is given. She has to die or her husband won't go free. APOLLO Relax, … - Anne Carson

If you pick a flower, if you snatch a handbag, if you possess a woman, if you plunder a storehouse, ravage a countryside or occupy a city, you are a taker. You are taking. In ancient Greek you use the verb άρπάζειν, which comes over into Latin as rapio, rapere, raptus sum and gives us English rapture and rape — words stained with the very early blood of girls, with the very late blood of cities, with the hysteria of the end of the world. Sometimes I think language should cover its own eyes when it speaks.

There is something maddeningly attractive about the untranslatable, about a word that goes silent in transit.

She doesn't get to say much in the official biography — I believe they are out of wine, etc., practical things — watching with one eye as he goes about the world calling himself The Son Of Man.