Circe: Ulysses, what are you doing? Do you really think you can leave me?
Ulysses: I have left you long ago, Circe. The day my men died.
Circe: And do you think your journey will outlast theirs?
Ulysses: You can't keep me here any longer.
Circe: Listen to me! I'll give you something to make you forget those petty dreams of yours. Your pitiful kingdom, your aging wife. Stay, and tonight Olympus will crown a new god: Ulysses!
Ulysses: Immortality?
Circe: This is my gift. The greatest gift ever given to a man.
Ulysses: [after a pause] No. There are greater gifts. To be born. To die. And in between, to live as a man.
Circe: Yes, live as a man. Kneaded from fear.
Ulysses: Only those who know fear understand courage.
Circe: And old age? That rolling mean you call a body? Then - death. Such is man's terrible legacy.
Ulysses: I accept this inheritance. I don't even flatter myself that I'll fall in battle or in the roar of storms. Far less will suffice. A sudden shiver. A chill at dusk. And yet - this fragile heap of fear dared to fight a god - and remains undefeated. If men speak of me one day, they will do so with pride, because I was of them.
Circe: Their pride won't warm you in the kingdom of shadows. I offer you centuries of light!
Ulysses: I don't think I will mind closing my eyes when the time comes.
