Psychḗ is the rare figure whose name became the subject she personifies: the Greek word for breath ended up meaning the whole inner life, and then lent that meaning to a science. The myth tracks the deepening. Homer's psyche is barely a person — a wing of air leaving the mouth of the dying. Apuleius's Psyche is all too personal: jealous sisters, forbidden sight, a burned husband, labours assigned by a vindictive mother-in-law. Her ascent to Olympus is the ancient world's quietest theological statement: the soul is not born divine, it becomes divine — through error, service, humiliation, and a rescue it did not earn. Read allegorically, as the Neoplatonists did, the tale says the soul's worst enemy is curiosity severed from trust; read psychologically, as we cannot help doing, it says that love and mind are wedded or ruined together. That is why her name stands over the modern science of the mind: Psyche never ruled anything, yet everything inward answers to her.