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It was almost like fear, in the way it filled me, rising in my chest. It was almost like tears, in how swiftly it came. But it was neither of those, buoyant where they were heavy, bright were they dull.

Madeline Miller
Tears, Rising, Dull
Madeline Miller (2011). “The Song of Achilles”, p.46, Bloomsbury Publishing
It was almost like fear, in the way it filled me, rising in my chest. It was almost like tears, in how swiftly it came. But it was neither of those, buoyant where they were heavy, bright were they dull.