Background Image

...

I'm Not A Writer Who's Preaching Some Particular Philosophy Or Something But The Big Questions Do Concern Me And I Like To Make My Readers Think And Debate And Argue With Each Other And Look At Some Aspect Of The World Or Some Act Of Governance Or War Or Power And Have An Angle They Haven't Considered Before, And That's Something I Strive For And Hopefully Have Accomplished.

-George R. R. Martin

...

Please Wait....
Translating....

I'm Not A Writer

George R. R. Martin

...

I'm Not A Writer Who's Preaching Some Particular Philosophy Or Something But The Big Questions Do Concern Me And I Like To Make My Readers Think And Debate And Argue With Each Other And Look At Some Aspect Of The World Or Some Act Of Governance Or War Or Power And Have An Angle They Haven't Considered Before, And That's Something I Strive For And Hopefully Have Accomplished.

Views: 4

Topic

More From George R. R. Martin

A Lot Of Writing Takes Place In The Subconscious, And It's Bound To Have An Effect.

I've Lost A Hand, A Father, A Son, A Sister, And A Lover, And Soon Enough I Will Lose A Brother. And Yet They Keep Telling Me House Lannister Won This War.

Words Are Like Arrows, Arianne. Once Loosed, You Cannot Call Them Back. - Areo Hotah

Time Is Different For A Tree Than For A Man. Sun And Soil And Water, These Are The Things A Weirwood Understands, Not Days And Years And Centuries. For Men, Time Is A River. We Are Trapped In Its Flow, Hurtling From Past To Present, Always In The Same Direction. The Lives Of Trees Are Different. They Root And Grow And Die In One Place, And That River Does Not Move Them. The Oak Is The Acorn, The Acorn Is The Oak.

Fantasy Is Silver And Scarlet, Indigo And Azure, Obsidian Veined With Gold And Lapis Lazuli. Reality Is Plywood And Plastic, Done Up In Mud Brown And Olive Drab. Fantasy Tastes Of Habaneros And Honey, Cinnamon And Cloves, Rare Red Meat And Wines As Sweet As Summer. Reality Is Beans And Tofu, And Ashes At The End.

Sleep Is Good, He Said, And Books Are Better.

Have A Care How You Speak To Me, Imp. Doubtless He Meant To Sound Threatening, But That Absurd Wisp Of A Mustache Ruined The Effect.

Perhaps That Is The Secret. It Is Not What We Do, So Much As Why We Do It.

Dark Wings, Dark Words.

A Cold Wind Was Blowing From The North, And It Made The Trees Rustle Like Living Things.

He Did Not Know Which Was More Painful, The Waking Or The Sleeping. When He Slept, He Dreamed: Dark Disturbing Dreams Of Blood And Broken Promises. When He Woke, There Was Nothing To Do But Think, And His Waking Thoughts Were Worse Than Nightmares.

I Prefer To Work With Grey Characters Rather Than Black And White.

Black And White

Aemon’s Blind White Eyes Came Open. “egg?” He Said, As The Rain Streamed Down His Cheeks. “egg, I Dreamed That I Was Old.

If I Wanted To Honor You, I´d Let You Retire. I Am Planing To Make You Run The Kingdom And Fight The Wars While I Eat And Drink

My Featherbed Is Deep And Soft, And There I’ll Lay You Down, I’ll Dress You All In Yellow Silk And On Your Head A Crown. For You Shall Be My Lady Love, And I Shall Be Your Lord. I’ll Always Keep You Warm And Safe, And Guard You With My Sword. And How She Smiled And How She Laughed, The Maiden Of The Tree. She Spun Away And Said To Him, No Featherbed For Me. I’ll Wear A Gown Of Golden Leaves, And Bind My Hair With Grass, But You Can Be My Forest Love, And Me Your Forest Lass.

So Young," Said Wyman Manderly, "though Mayhaps This Was A Blessing. Had He Lived He Would've Grown Up To Be A Frey.

It Was A Story Called ‘the Hero’ Which I Sold To Galaxy Magazine In 1970, For $94.

A Reader Lives A Thousand Lives Before He Dies, Said Jojen. The Man Who Never Reads Lives Only One.

Jon: Have You Seen The Wall? | Sam: I'm Fat, Not Blind.

Little Redcape," He Snarled, "when Next You Bare Steel On Shagga Son Of Dolf, I Will Chop Off Your Manhood And Roast It In The Fire." "what, No Goats?" Tyrion Said, Taking A Bite Of His Cheese.

You've Got A Bold Tongue, Little Man. One Day, Someone Is Like To Cut It Out And Make You Eat It.

The True Horrors Of Human History Derive Not From Orcs And Dark Lords, But From Ourselves.

Laughter Is Poison To Fear.

Even In Dreams, You Could Not Fall Forever.

A Woman's Life Is Nine Parts Mess To One Part Magic, You'll Learn That Soon Enough...and The Parts That Look Like Magic Turn Out To Be The Messiest Of All.

Lord Snow Wants To Take My Place Now.' He Sneered. 'i'd Have An Easier Time Teaching A Wolf To Juggle Than You Will Training This Aurochs.' 'i'll Take That Wager, Ser Alliser', Jon Said. 'i'd Love To See Ghost Juggle.

Small Men Oft Feel A Need To Prove Their Courage With Unseemly Boasts," He Declared. "i Doubt If He Could Kill A Duck." Tyrion Shrugged. "fetch The Duck.

The Wildlings Seemed To Think Ygritte A Great Beauty Because Of Her Hair; Red Hair Was Rare Among The Free Folk, And Those Who Had It Were Said To Be Kissed By Fire, Which Was Supposed To Be Lucky.

When Treating With Liars, Even An Honest Man Must Lie.

There Is No Shame In Loving. If Your Septons Say There Is, Your Seven Gods Must Be Demons. In The Isles We Know Better. Our Gods Gave Us Legs To Run With, Noses To Smell With, Hands To Touch And Feel. What Mad Cruel God Would Give A Man Eyes And Tell Him He Must Forever Keep Them Shut, And Never Look At All The Beauty In The World? Only A Monster God, A Demon Of The Darkness.

The Stone Is Strong. Bran Told Himself, The Roots Of The Trees Go Deep, And Under The Ground The Kings Of Winter Sit Their Thrones. So Long As Those Remained, Winterfell Remained. It Was Not Dead, Just Broken. Like Me, He Thought. I'm Not Dead Either.

Men Are Mad And Gods Are Madder, She Told The Grass, And The Grass Murmured Its Agreement.

When The Sun Has Set, No Candle Can Replace It.

If Half An Onion Is Black With Rot, It Is A Rotten Onion. A Man Is Good Or He Is Evil. (melisandre Of Asshai)

My Brother Is Undoubtedly Arrogant," Tyrion Lannister Replied. "my Father Is The Soul Of Avarice, And My Sweet Sister Cersei Lusts For Power With Every Waking Breath. I, However, Am Innocent As A Little Lamb. Shall I Bleat For You?

Is It So Far From Madness To Wisdom?" - Daenerys Targaryen

They Are Children, Sansa Thought. They Are Silly Little Girls, Even Elinor. They’ve Never Seen A Battle, They’ve Never Seen A Man Die, They Know Nothing. Their Dreams Were Full Of Songs And Stories, The Way Hers Had Been Before Joffrey Cut Her Fathers Head Off. Sansa Pitied Them. Sansa Envied Them.

I Have Climbed These Steps So Often I Know Each One By Name.

Never Forget What You Are, For Surely The World Will Not. Make It Your Strength. Then It Can Never Be Your Weakness. Armour Yourself In It, And It Will Never Be Used To Hurt You.

The Unseen Enemy Is Always The Most Fearsome.

I Can Be Humbler Than Anyone.

No One Who Wears A Crown Is Ever Safe.

Clean Hands, Sansa. Whatever You Do, Make Certain Your Hands Are Clean." ~ Lord Petyr Baelish, Littlefinger

I Heard Of A Man Who Had A Razor Made Of Valyrian Steel. He Cut His Head Off Trying To Shave.

You Do Not Steal From The Dragon, Oh, No. The Dragon Remembers.

And Any Man Who Must Say 'i Am King' Is No True King At All.

Song Of Ice And Fire

Spikes, " He Sighed. "heads. Walls.

Knights Die In Battle,” Catelyn Reminded Her. Brienne Looked At Her With Those Blue And Beautiful Eyes. “as Ladies Die In Childbed. No One Sings Songs About Them.

You Wear Your Honor Like A Suit Of Armor... You Think It Keeps You Safe, But All It Does Is Weigh You Down And Make It Hard For You To Move.

Sometimes There Is No Happy Choice, Sam, Only One Less Grievous Than The Others. - Jon Snow

A Reader Lives A Thousand Lives Before He Dies.

If You Need Help Bark Like A Dog." - Gendry. "that's Stupid. If I Need Help I'll Shout Help." - Arya

I Was A Journalism Major, And I Would Take Creative Writing Classes As Part Of That, But I Would Also Look For Opportunities To Write Stories For Some Of My Other Classes. So For My Course In Scandinavian History, I Asked If I Could Write Historical Fiction Instead Of Term Papers. Sometimes They’d Say Yes.

Always Keep Your Foes Confused. If They Are Never Certain Who You Are Or What You Want, They Cannot Know What You Are Like To Do Next. Sometimes The Best Way To Baffle Them Is To Make Moves That Have No Purpose, Or Even Seem To Work Against You. Remember That, Sansa, When You Come To Play The Game.” “what . . . What Game?” “the Only Game. The Game Of Thrones.” -(littlefinger)

Men Of Honor Will Do Things For Their Children That They Would Never Consider Doing For Themselves.

The Distinction Between Literary And Genre Fiction Is Stupid And Pernicious. It Dates Back To A Feud Between Robert Louis Stevenson And Henry James. James Won, And It Split Literature Into Two Streams. But It's A Totally False Dichotomy.

Give Me A Good Sharp Knife And A Good Sharp Cheese And I’m A Happy Man.

Old Stories Are Like Old Friends, She Used To Say. You Have To Visit Them From Time To Time.

I Always Give My Students Exercises Where They Really Have To Open A Vein And Bleed All Over The Paper And That's The Way You Get The Important Characters. Sooner Or Later Every Writer Worth Reading Writes A Story His Mother Wouldn't Read And Having To Get That Stuff Out Is Part Of One's Growth As A Writer.

For They Are The Knights Of Summer, And Winter Is Coming.

Mothers." The Man Made A Word Sound Like A Curse. "i Think Birthing Does Something To Your Minds. You Are All Mad.

She Yearned To See Her Mother Again, And Robb And Bran And Rickon… But It Was Jon Snow She Thought Of Most. She Wished Somehow They Could Come To The Wall Before Winterfell, So Jon Might Muss Up Her Hair And Call Her “little Sister.” She’d Tell Him, “i Missed You,” And He’d Say It Too At The Very Same Moment, The Way They Always Used To Say Things Together. She Would Have Liked That. She Would Have Liked That Better Than Anything.

We All Need To Be Mocked From Time To Time, Lest We Take Ourselves Too Seriously.

Men See What They Expect To See.

But Tolkien Doesn't Ask The Question: What Was Aragorn's Tax Policy?

The Way My Books Are Structured, Everyone Was Together, Then They All Went Their Separate Ways And The Story Deltas Out Like That, And Now It’s Getting To The Point Where The Story Is Beginning To Delta Back In, And The Viewpoint Characters Are Occasionally Meeting Up With Each Other Now And Being In The Same Point At The Same Time, Which Gives Me A Lot More Flexibility For Killing People.

Once A Man Has Seen A Dragon In Flight, Let Him Stay Home And Tend His Garden In Content, Someone Had Written Once, For This Wide World Has No Greater Wonder." Tyrion Scratched At His Scar And Tried To Recall The Author's Name.

Start With Short Stories. After All, If You Were Taking Up Rock Climbing, You Wouldn't Start With Mount Everest. So If You're Starting Fantasy, Don't Start With A Nine-book Series.

All The World Knew That A Maester Forged His Silver Link When He Learned The Art Of Healing—but The World Preferred To Forget That Men Who Knew How To Heal Also Knew How To Kill.

She Narrowed Her Eyes. “what Is Our Heart’s Desire?” “vengeance.” His Voice Was Soft, As If He Were Afraid That Someone Might Be Listening. “justice.” Prince Doran Pressed The Onyx Dragon Into Her Palm With His Swollen, Gouty Fingers, And Whispered, “fire And Blood.

The Eunuch Had Looked Death In The Face, So Near He Might Have Kissed Her On The Lips.

All Men Are Fools, If Truth Be Told, But The Ones In Motley Are More Amusing Than Ones With Crowns.

People Are Going To Die Who Don't Die In The Books, So Even The Book Readers Will Be Unhappy. So Everybody Better Be On Their Toes. David And D.b. (david Benioff And D.b. Weiss Co-creators Of 'game Of Thrones') Are Even Bloodier Than I Am.

Nothing Someone Says Before The Word 'but' Really Counts.

...if You Dance With Dragons, You Must Expect To Burn.

One Of The Big Breakthroughs, I Think For Me, Was Reading Robert A. Heinlein's Four Rules Of Writing, One Of Which Was, 'you Must Finish What You Write.' I Never Had Any Problem With The First One, 'you Must Write' - I Was Writing Since I Was A Kid. But I Never Finished What Writing.

We're Setting Up Mechanisms Where We Can Kill Human Beings With Drones And Missiles Where You're Sitting At A Console And Pressing The Button. We Never Have To Hear Their Whimpering, Or Hear Them Begging For Their Mother, Or Dying In Horrible Realities Around Us. I Don't Know If That's Necessarily Such A Good Thing.

The Lord Of Winterfell Would Always Be A Stark

He Pushed Himself To His Feet. “don’t Lie, Sansa. I Am Malformed, Scarred, And Small, But…” She Could See Him Groping “…abed, When The Candles Are Blown Out, I Am Made No Worse Than Other Men. In The Dark, I Am The Knight Of Flowers.” He Took A Draught Of Wine. “i Am Generous. Loyal To Those Who Are Loyal To Me. I’ve Proven I’m No Craven. And I Am Cleverer Than Most, Surely Wits Count For Something. I Can Even Be Kind. Kindness Is Not A Habit With Us Lannisters, I Fear, But I Know I Have Some Somewhere. I Could Be… I Could Be Good To You.

It All Goes Back And Back," Tyrion Thought, "to Our Mothers And Fathers And Theirs Before Them. We Are Puppets Dancing On The Strings Of Those Who Came Before Us, And One Day Our Own Children Will Take Up Our Strings And Dance In Our Steads.

So Be It. I'll Wear My Iron And Hold My Tongue. A Man Who Won't Listen Can't Hear.

If The Day Comes When You Would Find Me Again, Give That Coin To Any Man From Braavos, And Say These Words To Him--valar Morghulis.

All That Syrio Forel Had Taught Her Went Racing Through Her Head. Swift As A Deer. Quiet As Shadow. Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords. Quick As A Snake. Calm As Still Water. Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords. Strong As A Bear. Fierce As A Wolverine. Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords. Then Man Who Fears Losing Has Already Lost. Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords. Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords. Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords.

Don’t Call Me Lord Snow.” The Dwarf Lifted An Eyebrow. “would You Rather Be Called The Imp? Let Them See That Their Words Can Cut You And You’ll Never Be Free Of The Mockery. If They Want To Give You A Name Take It Make It Your Own. Then They Can’t Hurt You With It Anymore.

We Only Make Peace With Our Enemies. That's Why It's Called Making Peace.

A Mind Needs Books As A Sword Needs A Whetstone, If It Is To Keep Its Edge.

In A Heartbeat, A Thousand Voices Took Up The Chant. King Joffrey And King Robb And King Stannis Were Forgotten, And King Bread Ruled Alone. "bread." They Clamored. "bread, Bread!

The Best Writing Advice I Had Was [in] ‘heinlein’s Rules For Writers’ By (american Science Fiction Author) Robert A. Heinlein. His First Rule Is That You Must Write, And I Was Already Doing That, But His Second Rule Is, ‘you Must Finish What You Write,’ And That Had A Big Impact On Me.

I Believe That Women Are Many Different Types Of People. There Are Brave Women, There Are Cowardly Women, There Are Altruistic Women, There Are Selfish Women. Most People Are A Combination Of The Same.

She Just Laughed In His Face And Told Him She'd Sooner Crawl In A Bed With His Father's Leeches Before She'd Crawl In One With Him. She Stopped Laughing When He Put His Knife In Her.

My Own Heroes Are The Dreamers, Those Men And Women Who Tried To Make The World A Better Place Than When They Found It, Whether In Small Ways Or Great Ones. Some Succeeded, Some Failed, Most Had Mixed Results... But It Is The Effort That's Heroic, As I See It. Win Or Lose, I Admire Those Who Fight The Good Fight.

I Am Not Going To Get Into It Myself, Except To Say (1) If I Am Writing "boy Fiction," Who Are All Those Boys With Breasts Who Keep Turning Up By The Hundreds At My Signings And Readings? And (2) Thank You, Geek Girls! I Love You All.

The Sun Will Soon Be Setting, And Corpses Make Poor Company By Night. These Were Dark And Dangerous Men, Alive. I Doubt That Death Will Have Improved Them.

I Know Nothing And Perhaps I Never Will.

We're All Just Songs In The End. If We Are Lucky.

You Know Nothing, Jon Snow

Knowing Nothing

He Drew The Dagger And Laid It On The Table Between Them; A Length Of Dragonbone And Valyrian Steel, As Sharp As The Difference Between Right And Wrong, Between True And False, Between Life And Death.

A Lord May Love The Men That He Commands, But He Cannot Be A Friend To Them. One Day He May Need To Sit In Judgement On Them, Or Send Them Forth To Die.

Too Stupid To Learn And Too Stupid To Give Up.

Folly And Desperation Are Ofttimes Hard To Tell Apart.

[as For Evolution]....cutting Out The Sections [on The Subject] Is Preferrable If The Portions Are Not Thick Enough To Cause Damage To The Spine Of The Book As It Is Opened And Closed In Normal Use. When The Sections Needing Correction Are Too Thick, Paste The Pages Together Being Careful Not To Smear Portions Of The Book Not Intended For Correction.

You're Mine," She Whispered. "mine, As I'm Yours. And If We Die, We Die. All Men Must Die, Jon Snow. But First, We'll Live.

There Are No Happy Endings.

Wine Makes All Things Possible. George R. R. Martin, The Mystery Knight A Cold Wind Was Blowing From The North, And It Made The Trees Rustle Like Living Things. George R. R. Martin, A Game Of Thrones Nothing Burns Like The Cold. George R. R. Martin, A Game Of Thrones Laughter Is Poison To Fear.

These Old Knights Are More Cunning Than You Think, Or They Would Never Have Lived To See Their First Grey Hair.

Why Is It Always The Innocents Who Suffer Most, When You High Lords Play Your Game Of Thrones?

Winter Will Never Come For The Likes Of Us. Should We Die In Battle, They Will Surely Sing Of Us, And It’s Always Summer In The Songs. In The Songs All Knights Are Gallant, All Maids Are Beautiful, And The Sun Is Always Shining.

In A Room Sit Three Great Men, A King, A Priest, And A Rich Man With His Gold. Between Them Stands A Sellsword, A Little Man Of Common Birth And No Great Mind. Each Of The Great Ones Bids Him Slay The Other Two. ‘do It,’ Says The King, ‘for I Am Your Lawful Ruler.’ ‘do It,’ Says The Priest, ‘for I Command You In The Names Of The Gods.’ ‘do It,’ Says The Rich Man, ‘and All This Gold Shall Be Yours.’ So Tell Me—who Lives And Who Dies?

The Old Man Laid A Withered, Spotted Hand On His Shoulder. "it Hurts, Boy," He Said Softly. "oh, Yes. Choosing . . . It Has Always Hurt. And Always Will. I Know.

We're Children. We're Supposed To Be Childish.

Give Me Priests Who Are Fat And Corrupt And Cynical,(...) The Sort Who Like To Sit On Soft Satin Cushions, Nibble Sweetmeats, And Diddle Little Boys. It's The Ones Who Believe In Gods Who Make The Trouble. (tyrion)

For Herself, She Wanted Sleet And Ice, Howling Winds, Thunder To Shake The Very Stones Of The Red Keep. She Wanted A Storm To Match Her Rage.

His Dagger Was Out, Poised At Her Throat. “sing, Little Bird. Sing For Your Little Life.

An Artist Has An Obligation To Tell The Truth. [...] That The True Horrors Of Human History Derive Not From Orcs And Dark Lords, But From Ourselves. We Are The Monsters. (and The Heroes Too). Each Of Us Has Within Himself The Capacity For Great Good, And Great Evil.

In The World As I Have Seen It, No Man Grows Rich By Kindness.

There Are A Number Of Things That I'm Trying To Get Into The Books. There's A Meta-fictional Aspect, If I May Use That Pretentious Word, To Writing Anything. You're Writing In The Shadow Of All The People That Have Gone Before And, In A Way, You're Having A Dialogue With Them. As Someone Who's Read J.r. Tolkien And Robert E. Howard And All The Great Fantasists Before, This Is Almost My Answer To Them.

The Maester Smiled...hush Now, Child, I'm Much Older Than You. I Can....die As I Please.

Does He Think To Scare Me? Arya Kissed Him Where His Nose Should Be And Plucked The Grave Worm From His Eye To Eat It, But It Melted Like A Shadow In Her Hand. The Yellow Skull Was Melting Too, And The Kindliest Old Man That She Had Ever Seen Was Smiling Down On Her. "no One Has Ever Tried To Eat My Worm Before," He Said. "are You Hungry, Child?" Yes, She Thought, But Not For Food.

I Bet This Is A Brothel," She Whispered To Gendry. "you Don't Even Know What A Brothel Is." "i Do So," She Insisted. "it's Like An Inn, With Girls.

You Must Put These Dreams Aside, They Will Only Break Your Heart.

You Make Us Look Bad', Complained Toad. 'you Looked Bad Before I Ever Met You', Jon Told Him.

I Just Need To Rest, That’s All, To Rest And Sleep Some, And Maybe Die A Little.

We Were King’s Men, Knights, And Heroes . . . But Some Knights Are Dark And Full Of Terror, My Lady. War Makes Monsters Of Us All.” “are You Saying You Are Monsters?” “i Am Saying We Are Human. You Are Not The Only One With Wounds, Lady Brienne

One Voice May Speak You False, But In Many There Is Always Truth To Be Found.

I Think My Very Earliest Stories Were All Intellectual Exercises And I Was Writing From Experiences I Had Never Had About Characters Who Were About An Inch Deep.

Men's Lives Have Meaning, Not Their Deaths.

Most Men Would Rather Deny A Hard Truth Than Face It.

Minds Are Like Swords, I Do Fear. The Old Ones Go To Rust.

Some Doors Are Best Left Closed.

Everyone Who Isn't Us Is An Enemy." - Cersei

When You Have Known The Kiss Of A Flaying Knife, A Laugh Loses All Its Power To Hurt You.

Will Holding A Secret In Your Heart Make It Any Less True? If You Never Tell, Never Speak Of It, Will It Become Only A Dream, Less Than A Dream, A Nightmare Half-remembered? Oh, If Only The Gods Would Be So Good. (catelyn)

I Have Some Other Novels I Want To Write. I Have A Lot Of Short Stories - I Love The Short Story.

If I Die, I Die Friendless And Abandoned. What Choice Did That Leave Him, But To Live?

What Are Gods For If Not To Sit In Judgment Over Men? The Many-faced God Does Not Weigh Men's Souls, However. He Gives His Gift To The Best Of Men As He Gives It To The Worst. Elsewise The Good Would Live Forever.

Now I Understand Why King Stannis Let The Wildlings Through The Wall. He Means For Us To Eat Them.

Tyrion: My Gentle Sister Seems To Have Mistaken Me For Ned Stark. Bronn: I Hear He Was Taller. Tyrion: Not After Joff Took Off His Head.

I Like Grey Characters; Fantasy For Too Long Has Been Focused On Very Stereotypical Heroes And Villains.

I Am Doing The Right Thing, He Told Himself, So Why Do I Feel So Bad?

Doing The Right Thing

The Letter . . . What Did Your Lords Make Of It, I Wonder?” Stannis Snorted. “celtigar Pronounced It Admirable. If I Showed Him The Contents Of My Privy, He Would Declare That Admirable As Well.

How Much Can A Crown Be Worth, When A Crow Can Dine Upon A King?

Ten Years From Now, No One Is Going To Care How Quickly The Books Came Out. The Only Thing That Will Matter, The Only Thing Anyone Will Remember, Is How Good They Were. That's My Main Concern, And Always Will Be.

She Had Put Despair And Fear Aside, As If They Were Garments She Did Not Choose To Wear.

I Hate Outlines. I Have A Broad Sense Of Where The Story Is Going; I Know The End, I Know The End Of The Principal Characters, And I Know The Major Turning Points And Events From The Books, The Climaxes For Each Book, But I Don't Necessarily Know Each Twist And Turn Along The Way. That's Something I Discover In The Course Of Writing And That's What Makes Writing Enjoyable. I Think If I Outlined Comprehensively And Stuck To The Outline The Actual Writing Would Be Boring.

Life Is Very Full Of Sex, Or Should Be. As Much As I Admire Tolkien - And I Do, He Was A Giant Of Fantasy And A Giant Of Literature, And I Think He Wrote A Great Book That Will Be Read For Many Years - You Do Have To Wonder Where All Those Hobbits Came From, Since You Can't Imagine Hobbits Having Sex, Can You? Well, Sex Is An Important Part Of Who We Are. It Drives Us, It Motivates Us, It Makes Us Do Sometimes Very Noble Things And It Makes Us Do Sometimes Incredibly Stupid Things. Leave It Out, And You've Got An Incomplete World.

The Gods Give With One Hand And Take With The Other.

Jaime Smiled Knowingly. Men Will Read All Sorts Of Things Into A Knowing Smile If You Let Them.

Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords.

Some Truths Did Not Bear Saying, And Some Lies Were Necessary.

His Snores Sounded Like Ducks Mating.

Tears Aren't A Woman's Only Weapon.

There Is Only One God And His Name Is Death. And There Is Only One Thing We Say To Death: “not Today.

A Man Does Not Need To Be A Wizard To Know Truth From Falsehood, Not If He Has Eyes. You Need Only Learn To Read A Face. Look At The Eyes. The Mouth. The Muscles Here, At The Corners Of The Jaw, And Here, Where The Neck Joins The Shoulders." He Touched Her Lightly With Two Fingers. "some Liars Blink. Some Stare. Some Look Away. Some Lick Their Lips. Many Coer Their Mouths Just Before They Tell A Lie, As If To Hide Their Deceit. Other Signs May Be More Subtle, But They Are Always There. A False Smile And A True One May Look Alike, But They Are As Different As Dusk From Dawn.

It's A Fool Boy Who Mocks A Giant, And A Mad World When A Cripple Has To Defend Him.

Let His Sword Break And His Shield Shatter, Sansa Thought Coldly As She Shoved Out Through The Doors, Let His Courage Fail Him And Every Man Desert Him.

You Were Made To Be Kissed, Often And Well.

If A Man Paints A Target On His Chest, He Should Expect That Sooner Or Later Someone Will Loose An Arrow On Him.

Words Are Wind, Brienne Told Herself. They Cannot Hurt You. Let Them Wash Over You.

Some Old Wounds Never Truly Heal, And Bleed Again At The Slightest Word.

Lady," She Whimpered Softly, Wondering If She Would Meet Her Wolf Again When She Was Dead.

...grief Can Derange Even The Strongest And Most Disciplined Of Minds.

We Know Truth For The Cruel Instrument It Is. Beauty Is Infinitely Preferable To Truth.

As Faulkner Says, All Of Us Have The Capacity In Us For Great Good And For Great Evil, For Love But Also For Hate. I Wanted To Write Those Kinds Of Complex Character In A Fantasy, And Not Just Have All The Good People Get Together To Fight The Bad Guy.

It's Not," Mormont Told Him. "gods Save Us, Boy, You're Not Blind And You're Not Stupid. When Dead Men Come Hunting In The Night, Do You Think It Matters Who Sits The Iron Throne?

They Hate You Because You Act Like You're Better Than They Are

There Are Worse Ways To Die Than Warm And Drunk.

You Know, I've Always Considered Women To Be People.

She Would Die As She Had Lived, With An Axe In Her Hand And A Laugh Upon Her Lips.

When I Am Writing Best, I Really Am Lost In My World. I Lose Track Of The Outside World. I Have A Difficult Time Balancing Between My Real World And The Artificial World.

The Morning Air Was Dark With The Smoke Of Burning Gods.

Power Resides Where Men Believe It To Reside.

A Long Summer Always Meant A Long Winter To Come.

Most Have Been Forgotten. Most Deserve To Be Forgotten. The Heroes Will Always Be Remembered. The Best. The Best And The Worst. And A Few Who Were A Bit Of Both.

But The Real Enemy Is The Cold. It Steals Up On You Quieter Than Will, And At First You Shiver And Your Teeth Chatter And You Stamp Your Feet And Dream Of Mulled Wine And Nice Hot Fires. It Burns, It Does. Nothing Burns Like The Cold. But Only For A While. Then It Gets Inside You And Starts To Fill You Up, And After A While You Don't Have The Strength To Fight It. It's Easier Just To Sit Down Ot Go To Sleep. They Say You Don't Feel Any Pain Toward The End. First You Go Weak And Drowsy, And Everything Starts To Fade, And Then It's Like Sinking Into A Sea Of Warm Milk. Peaceful, Like.

In The Songs All Knights Are Gallant, All Maids Are Beautiful, And The Sun Is Always Shining.

When The Red Star Bleeds And The Darkness Gathers, Azor Ahai Shall Be Born Again Amidst Smoke And Salt To Wake Dragons Out Of Stone.

Sam Loved To Listen To Music And Make His Own Songs, To Wear Soft Velvets, To Play In The Castle Kitchen Beside The Cooks, Drinking In The Rich Smells As He Snitched Lemon Cakes And Blueberry Tarts. His Passions Were Books And Kittens And Dancing, Clumsy As He Was.

The Man Who Never Reads Lives Only One.

When You Smell Our Candles Burning, What Does It Make You Think Of, My Child?" Winterfell, She Might Have Said. I Smell Snow And Smoke And Pine Needles. I Smell The Stables. I Smell Hodor Laughing, And Jon And Robb Battling In The Yard, And Sansa Singing About Some Stupid Lady Fair. I Smell The Crypts Where The Stone Kings Sit. I Smell Hot Bread Baking. I Smell The Godswood. I Smell My Wolf. I Smell Her Fur, Almost As If She Were Still Beside Me. "i Don't Smell Anything," She Said.

You Mistake Patience For Forbearance.

Shagga Son Of Dolf Likes This Not. Shagga Will Go With The Boyman, And If The Boyman Lies, Shagga Will Chop Off His Manhood-" "-and Feed It To The Goats, Yes," Tyrion Said Wearily.

Madness And Greatness Are Two Sides Of The Same Coin. Every Time A New Targaryen Is Born, The Gods Toss The Coin In The Air And The World Holds Its Breath To See How It Will Land.

There Are Things To Be Learned Even From The Dead.

It Seemed Cruel For A Day To Dawn So Fair And End So Foul As This One Promised To.

You Lie. Worse, You Lie Poorly.

Bran Thought About It. 'can A Man Still Be Brave If He's Afraid?' 'that Is The Only Time A Man Can Be Brave,' His Father Told Him.

When The Snows Fall And The White Winds Blow, The Lone Wolf Dies But The Pack Survives.

Jon Shrugged. 'girls Get The Arms But Not The Swords. Bastards Get The Swords But Not The Arms. I Did Not Make The Rules, Little Sister.

The Best Fantasy Is Written In The Language Of Dreams. It Is Alive As Dreams Are Alive, More Real Than Real, For A Moment At Least, That Long Magic Moment Before We Wake.

He Who Hurries Through Life Hurries To His Grave.

No Fight Is Hopeless Till It Has Been Fought.

The Best Calumnies Are Spiced With Truth.

I've Said In Many Interviews That I Like My Fiction To Be Unpredictable. I Like There To Be Considerable Suspense.

The Real Issue Lies In The North Beyond The Wall. Stannis Becomes One Of The Few Characters Fully To Understand That, Which Is Why In Spite Of Everything He Is A Righteous Man.

Any Act Can Be A Prayer, If Done As Well As We Are Able.

Gods And Wonders Always Appear, To Attend The Birth Of Kings.

It's Really Irritating When You Open A Book, And 10 Pages Into It You Know That The Hero You Met On Page One Or Two Is Gonna Come Through Unscathed, Because He's The Hero. This Is Completely Unreal, And I Don't Like It.

The Man Who Passes The Sentence Should Swing The Sword.

There Are No Heroes...in Life, The Monsters Win.

The Brightest Flame Casts The Darkest Shadow.

Trending Author

Cecilia Bartoli

William E. Gladstone

Category