I dreamed of living upon a world, where only she was waiting. For me this girl, was even more than a lady. She walks in glory, her smile is beauty, I wasn't part of her story, still, her joy was my duty.
“The knight is a man of blood and iron, a man familiar with the sight of smashed faces and the ragged stumps of lopped-off limbs; he is also a demure, almost maidenlike, guest in a hall, a gentle, modest, unobtrusive man. He is not compromise or happy mean between ferocity and meekness; he is fierce to the nth and meek to the nth. The man who combines both characters – the knight – is not a work of nature but of art; of that art which has human beings, instead of canvas or marble, for its medium.”
―
