Narration: The reason for his anguish, the intolerable burden which had broken him at last, was the simplest thing in the world: he loved his wife. H… - David Weber

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Narration: The reason for his anguish, the intolerable burden which had broken him at last, was the simplest thing in the world: he loved his wife. He always had, and he always would. Nothing could change that, but that was what had made his agony bite so deep, the reason he couldn't forgive himself for not somehow making things "all right" again... and the reason he'd had to turn to someone else to rebuild himself when the collapse came. It had been cowardly of him, in many ways, but he simply could not have made himself dump his weakness, his collapse on her shoulders while she coped with everything God had already done to her.

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About David Weber

David Mark Weber (born October 24, 1952) is an American science fiction author. Many of his stories have militaristic, particularly naval, themes, and fit into the military science fiction genre. His assumption of gender-neutral military services allows him to place female characters in what have often been seen as traditionally male roles, exploring the challenges faced by women in the military and politics. His most enduring character is Honor Harrington, whose story, together with the "Honorverse" she resides in, has been developed in 11 novels and four shared universe anthologies as of spring 2004.

Also Known As

Native Name: David Mark Weber
Alternative Names: David Martin Weber
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Additional quotes by David Weber

W.E.B. Du Havel: God, I love the "fine morality" of the wealthy and powerful. You'll spill tears over your own, in a heartbeat. And then never even look twice at people below you, whose very lives are ground under every day, day after day, year after year.

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.

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