David Weber

North Carolina · connectedBorn 1952

American science fiction and fantasy writer (born 1952)

Studied at Appalachian State University
Studied at Warren Wilson College

novelist, writer, science fiction writer, fantasy author, screenwriter

In the libraries

Open Library At All Costs · 2005 View library record ↗ Open Library Field of Dishonor · 1994 View library record ↗ Open Library Flag in Exile · 1995 View library record ↗ Open Library In Enemy Hands · 1997 View library record ↗ Open Library On Basilisk Station · 1993 View library record ↗ Open Library The Honor of the Queen · 1993 View library record ↗

Read David Weber

On Basilisk Station 1993 Find a copy In Enemy Hands 1997 Find a copy Flag in Exile 1995 Find a copy Field of Dishonor 1994 Find a copy The Honor of the Queen 1993 Find a copy At All Costs 2005 Find a copy

Recorded without a firm citation

Kept here, labelled, rather than mixed in above.

Honor Harrington: My duty is not affected by what others may or may not do to discharge their own.

Narration: But what kept them on their feet when there was no sane reason for hope were the bonds between them, loyalty to one another, the knowledge that others depended on them even as they depended on those others. And sometimes, all too rarely, it came down to a single person it was simply unthinkable to fail. Someone they knew would never quit on them, never leave them in the lurch.

Honor Harrington: The world's best swordsman doesn't fear the second best; he fears the worst swordsman, because he can't predict what the idiot will do. (paraphrase on Mark Twain)

Narration: But the universe wasn't really unfair, she thought, and her mouth quirked. It just didn't give much of a damn one way or the other.

Admiral Amos Parnell: (before launching the Manticoran-Havenite War) I suppose I ought to think up some dramatic, quotable phrase for Public Information and the history books, but I'm damned if any of them come to mind. Besides, admitting the truth wouldn't sound too good (...) The truth, Russell, is that now the moment's here, I'm scared shitless. Somehow I don't think even Public Information could turn that into good copy.

Narration: [Michelle] Henke sensed [Honor's] terrifying aptitude for destruction as never before. Henke had feared for her sanity; now she knew the truth was almost worse than that. Honor wasn't insane - she simply didn't care. She'd lost not only her sense of balance but any desire to regain it.

Narration: He bit his lip and realized how right the Protector had been to stop him from offering her a commission months ago. Not because she couldn't do the job, but because she was afraid she couldn't. Because she would have refused it, and that refusal would have ended her career forever. Inability, real or imagined, could never truly be overcome once an officer accepted deep inside that he could no longer hack it. That damage was almost always permanent, for it was self-inflicted and no one else could heal it for him.

Narration: Perhaps his love for her made him less than impartial, but he also knew how deeply she'd been hurt and chided her for judging herself so much more harshly than she would have judged someone else...

Narration: No one else knew how she'd longed for extinction, how much part of her had hungered simply to quit. To end. She'd once intended, coldly and logically, to do just that... She'd sacrificed her naval career... and a corner of her mind suspected she'd actually wanted to sacrifice it - that she'd planned to use the loss of the vocation she loved so much as one more reason to end her dreary existence. It had seemed only reasonable then; now the memory was one more coal of contempt for her own weakness, her willingness to surrender to her own pain when she'd always refused to surrender to anyone else.