Love Is The Bane Of Honor, The

I've Been Many Kinds Of Writers In My Career: Novelist; Tele-playwright; Short Story Writer. As A High-school Student, I Wrote Amateur Pieces For Fanzines, And I've Written For Hollywood.

I Rose Too High, Loved Too Hard, Dared Too Much. I Tried To Grasp A Star, Overreached, And Fell.

And If I'm Guilty Of Having Gratuitous Sex, Then I'm Also Guilty Of Having Gratuitous Violence, And Gratuitous Feasting, And Gratuitous Description Of Clothes, And Gratuitous Heraldry, Because Very Little Of This Is Necessary To Advance The Plot. But My Philosophy Is That Plot Advancement Is Not What The Experience Of Reading Fiction Is About. If All We Care About Is Advancing The Plot, Why Read Novels? We Can Just Read Cliffs Notes.

Winter Will Never Come For The Likes Of Us. Should We Die In Battle, They Will Surely Sing Of Us, And It’s Always Summer In The Songs. In The Songs All Knights Are Gallant, All Maids Are Beautiful, And The Sun Is Always Shining.

What Is Honor Compared To A Woman's Love? What Is Duty Against The Feel Of A Newborn Son In Your Arms . . . Or The Memory Of A Brother's Smile? Wind And Words. Wind And Words. We Are Only Human, And The Gods Have Fashioned Us For Love. That Is Our Great Glory, And Our Great Tragedy.