It was almost like fear, in the way it filled me, rising in my chest. It was almost like tears, in how swiftly it came. But it was neither of those, buoyant where they were heavy, bright were they dull.

The very dull truth is that writing love scenes is the same as writing other scenes - your job is to be fully engaged in the character's experience. What does this mean to them? How are they changed by it, or not? I remember being a little nervous, as I am when writing any high-stakes, intense scene (death, sex, grief, joy).

He is more worth to you, perhaps. But the stranger is someone else's friend and brother. So which life is more important?

We were like gods at the dawning of the world, & our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other.

. . .nothing could eclipse the stain of his dirty, mortal mediocrity.

He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.

Odysseus inclines his head. "True. But fame is a strange thing. Some men gain glory after they die, while others fade. What is admired in one generation is abhorred in another." He spread his broad hands. "We cannot say who will survive the holocaust of memory. Who knows?" He smiles. "Perhaps one day even I will be famous. Perhaps more famous than you.