“The bards sing of love, they celebrate slaughter, they extol kings and flatter queens, but were I a poet I would write in praise of friendship.”

Looking back, of course, it was irresponsible, mad, forlorn, idiotic, but if you don’t take chances then you’ll never have a winning hand, and I’ve no regrets.

Then you start another book and suddenly the galley proofs of the last one come in and you have to wrench your attention away from what you’re writing and try to remember what you were thinking when you wrote the previous one.

We make children and wealth and amass land and build halls and assemble armies and give great feasts, but only one thing survives us. Reputation.

Only a fool wants war, but once a war starts then it cannot be fought half-heartedly. It cannot even be fought with regret, but must be waged with a savage joy in defeating the enemy, and it is that savage joy that inspires our bards to write their greatest songs about love and war.

Life is a jest of the Gods and there is no justice. You must learn to laugh… or else you’ll weep yourself to death.

Even the nailed god cannot change that truth. And I was a warrior, and in a world at war the warrior must be cruel.

Because there could not be peace, not while two tribes shared one land. One tribe must win. Even the nailed god cannot change that truth. And I was a warrior, and in a world at war the warrior must be cruel.

Book tours and research provide a lot of travel – too much, I sometimes think, but we do take vacations.

I know nothing about producing TV drama and any involvement on my part is liable to prove an obstacle to the producers, so I prefer to be a cheerleader and let them get on with it.

Writing is a solitary occupation.

Pride makes a man, it drives him, it is the shield wall around his reputation… Men die, they said, but reputation does not die.

Every day is ordinary, until it isn’t.

We discover that it is all an illusion and nothing is there. Lust is a voyage to nowhere, to an empty land, but some men just love such voyages and never care about the destination. Love is a voyage too, a voyage with no destination except death, but a voyage of bliss.

I do understand that you can look into someone’s eyes,” I heard myself saying, “and suddenly know that life will be impossible without them.

Know that their voice can make your heart miss a beat and that their company is all your happiness can ever desire and that their absence will leave your soul alone, bereft and lost.

Because there could not be peace, not while two tribes shared one land. One tribe must win.

[The Pope] will make the king believe that three are only one, that the bread he eats is not bread… and a thousand other things of the same kind.

Sirsasana the king of all asanas and the reasons are not hard to find.

Belgium, where there occurred one of the rare appearances of the hero in history, was lifted above herself by the uncomplicated conscience of her King and, faced with the choice to acquiesce or resist, took less than three hours to make her decision, knowing it might be mortal.

Oh, mercy. If it catches you in the wrong frame of mind, the King James Bible can make you want to drink poison in no uncertain terms.

Mind is the king of the senses; breath is the king of the mind; and the nerves are king of the breath.

The monarchy that I hand over to my son is not going to be the same one that I have inherited. … There is a tendency by a lot of officials to hide behind the king.

The king’s might is greater than human, and his arm is very long.

A multitude of rulers is not a good thing. Let there be one ruler, one king.