Draw Nigh, Come Through The Press To Grips With Me, So Shall Ye Learn What Might Wells Up In Breasts

Draw nigh, come through the press to grips with me, so shall ye learn what might wells up in breasts of Amazons. With my blood is mingled war!

Queen Penthesilea, in Quintus Smyrnaeus’ The Fall of Troy

Quoted in Wonder Woman: Warbringer

More Posts from Princess-of-lions and Others

5 years ago
“No. You Seek Glory For Yourself. And You Would Win It Off The Backs Of My People!”
“No. You Seek Glory For Yourself. And You Would Win It Off The Backs Of My People!”

“No. You seek glory for yourself. And you would win it off the backs of my people!”

- Princess Jasmine

I love this moment in Aladdin. The way she says ‘my people!’ so intensely and passionately is perfection.


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6 years ago
Took These At The University’s Garden The Other Day. Spring Is Coming - If Very Slowly.
Took These At The University’s Garden The Other Day. Spring Is Coming - If Very Slowly.

Took these at the university’s garden the other day. Spring is coming - if very slowly.

5 years ago

So,,, at work today I was chatting with this customer, a lady who had her two young daughters with her (8 months and 4 years), and partway into our conversation I realized she was talking to me like I was a fellow mom. Saying like, ‘you know how they are at that age when so and so’. She legit somehow assumed I was old enough to have children of my own, and seemed kind of surprised when it became clear that I did not, in fact, have kids.

I couldn’t figure out how to tell her that I am a Teenager.


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4 years ago

one of my favorite astronomy facts is that the earth would become a black hole if you crushed it down to the size of a marble


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4 years ago

so my great-aunt (or whatever else one calls one’s grandmother’s brother’s wife’s sister) is trying to send me something in the mail, only she realized that she doesn’t have my address on hand. so she called me and I just spent about fifteen minutes trying to spell the name of the town I live in out to her over the phone. she doesn’t use text or email, so I couldn’t send it to her that way; and her hearing can be a bit troublesome and also English isn’t her first language. you can imagine that this phone call was a bit of a mess. I’m still not sure if she got the address down correctly or not, but I suppose I’ll find out eventually


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2 years ago
What Is Going On With The World??

What is going on with the world??

4 years ago

Technically, ice is a mineral. Minerals are defined by the presence of a uniform chemical composition and a regular crystalline structure. (Ice has a hexagonal structure, due to the polar nature of water molecules!) 

A rock is typically defined as an aggregate of one or more minerals.


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3 years ago
“Untitled“ By | Erin Moon

“Untitled“ by | Erin Moon

Mt. Baker, Whatcom County, Washington

4 years ago

🐯 🐯 🐯

6 years ago

From death, life.

They stand before her, and they brandish their weapons callously, carelessly. She knows they mean to kill her – she’s of no use to them. “Don’t run and we’ll make it quick, little girl,” one of them says. “You can join your family.” She knows that he is lying. The world is open before her, and she knows all that may be known.

She can see the silence behind them, the darkness. Death. The void awaits.

The men smirk. They are empty of life and humanity, worn to blood, bone, and sharpened teeth by violence. They expect her to beg. They do not know.

She stands before them, small. Her spine is straight, and her head is high. She meets his eyes.

“No,” she says, and her voice is strong and clear. It is still a girl-child’s voice, but there is something more behind it.

He is taken aback, but something nasty quickly enters his eyes. “More fun for us then,” he tells the others.

“No,” she says again.

“I am not afraid to die.” She tells them, and there is a universe under her skin. She feels her life like a star in her chest, and death like tides in her blood.

They roar with laughter and start forward. They step with heavy feet on soil rich with death. They do not know.

The darkness is behind them, within them, between every atom in the air and in the earth. It is within her. The silence.

“I am not afraid to die,” she repeats, “but today is not my day to die. It is yours.”

The raucous laughter enters the air again, but she can see something like fear rising in the eyes of the wiser ones.

The time for words is over. The silence is here.

She closes her eyes - and breathes. Life is here, she thinks. Death is here, she thinks. Truth rings strong in the silence.

The darkness rises in her like the tides. The empty space between the stars is here, between the pieces of the universe. Void calls to void. The hungry dark will devour all. The shadows grow, and –

She opens her eyes, but there is nothing to see. The dark presses like a living thing against her skin, but she is not afraid. She is part of it, and it a part of her. There is no sound, because the dark and silence swallow all. But she can feel them. She can sense their light growing dim. Their fear grows, as the darkness within answers to the call of the darkness without.

She holds both death and life, light and dark, silence and sound, void and star – in her hands and in her heart. Her light does not fade as the darkness grows. There is no fear in her. She has already passed through the void and emerged.

The lights in the darkness are gone. The sense of nothing presses against her skin. She waits. She knows it is not yet done.

She waits, and the dark waits also, hungry. It is restless and chaotic, and it would consume her given the chance. She remembers the star in her chest. And waits.

And in the consuming darkness, the void of chaos and nothingness, something starts to grow. She smiles in the blackness, and breathes in, bringing air into her lungs where there was none. The light in her chest flares. Her star fills her whole self. The shadows recede. She blinks in the sunlight. There are no men in front of her. There are no more bodies in the streets. There is only rich black soil.

She steps forward and kneels, brushing the dirt away from a bright green seedling. Life.


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    chimcras liked this · 3 years ago
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