David Gemmell

There is evil in all of us, and it is the mark of a man how he defies the evil within.

Hate is the father of all evil.

You are a Chosen Man. You are Parmenion, the Death of Nations. A hundred thousand souls will yousend to the dark river, screaming and wailing, lamenting their fate. It is right and just that youshould know your choices.

No man should ever completely realize his dreams. What else would there then be to live for?

This is the real magic of fantasy fiction: it can feed souls and change lives.

We make choices everyday, some of them good, some of them bad. And if we are strong enough - we live with the consequences. To be truthful I am not entirely sure what people mean when they talk of happiness. There are moments of joy and laughter, the comfort of friendship, but enduring happiness? If it exists I have not discovered it.

Our lives are spent sailing in the mist, hoping for a burst of sunlight that can make sense of who we are.

We make choices every day, some of them good, some of them bad. And if we are strong enough, we live with the consequences.

Fear is an aid to the warrior. It is a small fire burning. It heats the muscles, making us stronger. Panic comes when the fire is out of control, consuming all courage and pride.

Trust your instincts, and make judgements on what your heart tells you. The heart will not betray you.

All things that live must die. Man alone it seems lives all his life in the knowledge of death. And yet there is more to life than merely waiting for death. For life to have meaning, there must be a purpose. A man must pass something on _ otherwise he is useless. For most men, that purpose revolves around marriage and children who will carry on his seed. For others it is an ideal _ a dream, if you like. Each of us here believes in a concept of honor: that it is a man__ duty to do that which is right and just; that might alone is not enough. We have all transgressed at some time. We have stolen, lied, cheated _ even killed _ for our own ends. But ultimately we return to our beliefs. We judge ourselves more harshly than others can judge us. We know that death is preferable to betrayal of that which we hold dear.

She was his north star, the fixed point round which his world turned. For as long as his heart beat, or hers, he believed they would always share a destiny.

The truth. Men will blind themselves with hot irons, rather than face it.

Odysseus draped the towel over his shoulders and stretched his back. "You remember practicing with wooden swords? All the moves, the blocks, the counters, getting your footwork right, learning how to be in balance always?""Of course you were a hard master.""And you recall the first time you went into a real fight, with blood being shed and the fear of death in the air?""I do""The moves are the same, but the difference is wider than the Great Green. Love is like that, Helikaon. You can spend time with a whore and laugh and know great pleasure. But when love strikes--- ah, the difference is awesome. You will find more joy in the touch of a hand or the sight of a smile than you could ever experience in a hundred nights of passion with anyone else. The sky will be more blue, the sun more bright. Ah, I am missing my Penelope tonight

I would have offered you a forest of truth, but you wish to speak of a single leaf

What is your name?"Why?"So I can mark your grave...

If there is one sound the follows the march of humanity, it is the scream.

There is a darkness in you. In all of us, probably. Beasts we keep chained. Ordinary men have to keep the chains strong, for if we let the beast loose then society will turn upon us with fiery vengeance. Kings though...well, who is there to turn upon them? So the chains are made of straw. It is the curse of kings, Helikaon, that they can become monsters. And they invariably do.