Nobles And Peasants Marry Early. Businessmen Tend

Contemporary Fantasists All Bow Politely To Lord Tennyson And Papa Tolkien, Then Step Around Them To Go Back To The Original Texts For Inspiration--and There Are A Lot Of Those Texts. We Have King Arthur And His Gang In English; We've Got Siegfried And Brunhild In German; Charlemagne And Roland In French; El Cid In Spanish; Sigurd The Volsung In Icelandic; And Assorted 'myghtiest Knights On Lyfe' In A Half-dozen Other Cultures. Without Shame, We Pillage Medieval Romance For All We're Worth.

Keep Working. Keep Trying. Keep Believing. You Still Might Not Make It, But At Least You Gave It Your Best Shot. If You Don’t Have Calluses On Your Soul, This Isn’t For You. Take Up Knitting Instead.

Whatever Happened To Him?" Silk Asked. "he Went Swimming In The Nedrane." "i Didn't Know That Thulls Swam All That Well." "they Don't–particularly Not With Large Rocks Tied To Their Feet.

Now What?” Urgit Warily Asked His Bride-to-be. “am I Disturbing Your Majesty?” Prala Asked. “…you Always Disturb Me, My Beloved,” He Answered Her Question, Spreading His Arms Extravagantly.

...it's As Empty As A Merchant's Soul. Sorry, Kheldar, It's Just An Old Expression." "that's All Right, Beldin," Silk Forgave Him Grandly. "these Little Slips Of The Tongue Are Common In The Very Elderly.