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If H. P. Lovecraft And H. L. Mencken Had Ever Collaborated, They Might Have Come Up With Something Like The Edge Of Reason. This One Will Delight Thinkers-and Outrage True Believers-of All Stripes.

-George R. R. Martin

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If H. P. Lovecraft

George R. R. Martin

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If H. P. Lovecraft And H. L. Mencken Had Ever Collaborated, They Might Have Come Up With Something Like The Edge Of Reason. This One Will Delight Thinkers-and Outrage True Believers-of All Stripes.

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...ned Always Said That The Man Who Passes The Sentence Should Swing The Blade, Though He Never Took Any Joy In The Duty. But I Would, Oh, Yes.

The Women Are The Strong Ones, Truly.

Control Your Generosity When Dealing With A Chronic Borrower.

Your Generosity

Even In Dreams, You Could Not Fall Forever.

But What A Man Can Do And What A Man Will Do Are Two Different Things, He Knew.

He Wants You To Smile And Smell Sweet And Be His Lady Love. He Wants To Hear You Recite All Your Pretty Little Words The Way The Septa Taught You. He Wants You To Love Him... And Fear Him.

Death, There Will Be Death, Aye. Your Lordship Lost A Son At The Red Wedding. I Lost Four Upon The Blackwater. And Why? Because The Lannisters Stole The Throne. Go To King’s Landing And Look On Tommen With Your Own Eyes, If You Doubt Me. A Blind Man Could See It. What Does Stannis Offer You? Vengeance. Vengeance For My Sons And Yours, For Your Husbands And Your Fathers And Your Brothers. Vengeance For Your Murdered Lord, Your Murdered King, Your Butchered Princes. Vengeance!

The Odd Thing About Being A Writer Is You Do Tend To Lose Yourself In Your Books. Sometimes It Seems Like Real Life Is Flickering By And You're Hardly A Part Of It. You Remember The Events In Your Books Better Than You Remember The Events That Actually Took Place When You Were Writing Them.

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

I Would Also Suggest That Any Aspiring Writer Begin With Short Stories. These Days, I Meet Far Too Many Young Writers Who Try To Start Off With A Novel Right Off, Or A Trilogy, Or Even A Nine-book Series. That's Like Starting In At Rock Climbing By Tackling Mt. Everest. Short Stories Help You Learn Your Craft.

Tolkien Can Say That Aragorn Became King And Reigned For A Hundred Years, And He Was Wise And Good. But Tolkien Doesn’t Ask The Question: What Was Aragorn’s Tax Policy? Did He Maintain A Standing Army? What Did He Do In Times Of Flood And Famine? And What About All These Orcs? By The End Of The War, Sauron Is Gone But All Of The Orcs Aren’t Gone – They’re In The Mountains. Did Aragorn Pursue A Policy Of Systematic Genocide And Kill Them? Even The Little Baby Orcs, In Their Little Orc Cradles?

She Had Never Loved Him So Much As She Did In That Instant.

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

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

You Don't Just Have People Who Wake Up In The Morning And Say, "what Evil Things Can I Do Today, Because I'm Mr. Evil?" People Do Things For What They Think Are Justified Reasons. Everybody Is The Hero Of Their Own Story, And You Have To Keep That In Mind. If You Read A Lot Of History, As I Do, Even The Worst And Most Monstrous People Thought They Were The Good Guys. We're All Very Tangled Knots.

Men See What They Expect To See.

I Feel Satisfaction At The End Of The Day When I've Written A Scene That I Really Like Or When I Write A Good Line Of Dialogue That I Read Out To My Wife Or Something Like That. But There's Also Days Where It's Just Bloody Agony And I Go, 'ugh, This Is Such Crap! Why Did I Think I Had Any Talent?

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

Black And White

Kill Me, And Be Cursed. You Are No King Of Mine.

I Must Show No Fear, No Weakness, No Doubt.

If I Look Back I Am Lost.

The Man Is As Useless As Nipples On A Breastplate.

Remember Old Nan's Stories, Bran. Remember The Way She Told Them, The Sound Of Her Voice. So Long As You Do That, Part Of Her Will Always Be Alive In You.

When The End Comes, I Will Meet It Raging.

For Men, The Answer Was Always The Same And Never Farther Away Than The Nearest Sword. For A Woman, A Mother, The Way Was Stonier And Harder To Know.

For The Night Is Dark And Full Of Terrors.

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)

There Are Worse Ways To Die Than Warm And Drunk.

His Cloak Was His Crowning Glory; Sable, Thick And Black And Soft As Sin.

[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.

An Awful Lot Of Fantasy, And Even Some Great Fantasy, Falls Into The Mistake Of Assuming That A Good Man Will Be A Good King, That All That Is Necessary Is To Be A Decent Human Being And When You're King Everything Will Go Swimmingly.

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.

First Rule, Stick Them With The Pointy End!

Death Is So Terribly Final, While Life Is Full Of Possibilities.

What Do We Say To The Lord Of Death?" "not Today.

It Is Better To Be Seen As Cruel Than Foolish.

I'm Sorry That I Never Trusted You. I Don't Know How To Do That Anymore.

If You Die Before You Say Her Name, Ser, I Will Hunt You Through All Seven Hells.

Needle Was Robb And Bran And Rickon, Her Mother And Her Father, Even Sansa. Needle Was Winterfell's Grey Walls, And The Laughter Of Its People. Needle Was The Summer Snows, Old Nan's Stories, The Heart Tree With Its Red Leaves And Scary Face, The Warm Earthy Smell Of The Glass Gardens, The Sound Of The North Wind Rattling The Shutters Of Her Room. Needle Was Jon Snow's Smile. He Used To Mess My Hair And Call Me "little Sister," She Remembered, And Suddenly There Were Tears In Her Eyes.

I Swear To You, Sitting A Throne Is A Thousand Times Harder Than Winning One.

You Kill Men For The Wrongs They Have Done, Not The Wrongs That They May Do Someday.

They Were Never My Pack, Not Even Hot Pie And Gendry. I Was Stupid To Think So, Just A Stupid Little Girl, And No Wolf At All.

You Can't Hammer Tin Into Iron, No Matter How Hard You Beat It, But That Doesn't Mean It's Useless.

Sometimes He Could Almost Forget That It Was There, The Way You Forget About The Sky Or The Earth Underfoot, But There Were Other Times When It Seemed As If There Was Nothing Else In The World.

Now You Know " The Crow Whispered As It Sat On His Shoulder. "now You Know Why You Must Live." "why " Bran Said Not Understanding Falling Falling. "because Winter Is Coming.

Schemes Are Like Fruit, They Require A Certain Ripening.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

Why Is It That When One Man Builds A Wall, The Next Man Immediately Needs To Know What's On The Other Side?

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.

The Things We Love Destroy Us Every Time, Lad. Remember That.

Kind? How Boring That Would Be. I Aspire To Be Wicked.

Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords.

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

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

A Bruise Is A Lesson... And Each Lesson Makes Us Better.

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.

And Pray That He Is The Man I Think He Is, He Finished Silently, And Not The Man I Fear He Has Become.

Remember This, Boy. All Dwarfs May Be Bastards, Yet Not All Bastards Need Be Dwarfs." And With That He Turned And Sauntered Back Into The Feast, Whistling A Tune. When He Opened The Door, The Light From Within Threw His Shadow Clear Across The Yard, And For Just A Moment Tyrion Lannister Stood Tall As A King.

That Little Touch Is Not In The Books, But I Wish It Had Been In The Books Because It Was A Great Addition.

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

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.

From Where I Sit, Battles Are Hard. I’ve Written My Share. Sometimes I Employ The Private’s Viewpoint, Very Up Close And Personal, Dropping The Reader Right Into The Middle Of The Carnage. That’s Vivid And Visceral, But Of Necessity Chaotic, And It Is Easy To Lose All Sense Of The Battle As A Whole. Sometimes I Go With The General’s Point Of View Instead, Looking Down From On High, Seeing Lines And Flanks And Reserves. That Gives A Great Sense Of The Tactics, Of How The Battle Is Won Or Lost, But Can Easily Slide Into Abstraction.

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?

- Some Men Think Because They Are Afraid To Do. - There Is A Difference Between Fear And Caution.

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.

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 Singers Make Much Of Kings Who Die Valiantly In Battle, But Your Life Is Worth More Than A Song.

They Will Not Love Me, You Say? When Have They Ever Loved Me? How Can I Lose Something I Have Never Owned? - Stannis

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

What Was It Catelyn Stark Had Called Them, That Night At Bitterbridge? The Knights Of Summer. And Now It Was Autumn And They Were Falling Like Leaves.

Laughter Is Poison To Fear.

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

Swords Have Been My Life, Not Books. But Every Child Knows That The Targaryens Have Always Danced Too Close To Madness. Your Father Was Not The First. King Jaehaerys Once Told Me That Madness And Greatness Are Two Sides Of The Same Coin. Every Time A New Targaryen Is Born, He Said, The Gods Toss The Coin In The Air And The World Holds Its Breath To See How It Will Land.

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

I Knew That, When Writing A Book, You're Not Constrained By A Budget. You're Not Constrained By What You Can Do, In Terms Of The Special Effects Technology. You're Not Limited To Any Particular Running Time.

When A Man Was Hurt You Took Him To The Maester, But What Could You Do When Your Maester Was Hurt?

Know The Men Who Follow You And Let Them Know You. Don't Ask Your Men To Die For A Stranger.

We Were Talking About The Prince,' Sansa Said, Her Voice Soft As A Kiss. Arya Knew Which Prince She Meant: Joffrey, Of Course. The Tall, Handsome One. Sansa Got To Sit With Him At The Feast. Arya Had To Sit With The Little Fat One. Naturally.

Her Lord Father Had Taught Her Never To Steal, But It Was Growing Harder To Remember Why.

There’s Part Of Me That Loves Words. But Sometimes It Feels Like You’re Trying To Drive Nails With Your Shoe.

Most People Were Startled To Find Out There Were Books That Preceded Game Of Thrones. I'm A Case Of Working Forty Years To Be An Overnight Success.

My Skin Has Turned To Porcelain, To Ivory, To Steel.

As We Sin, So Do We Suffer

Can They Love Without A Word For It?

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

She Had Killed Him With A Whisper, And She Would Kill Two More Before She Was Through. I’m The Ghost In Harrenhal, She Thought. And That Night, There Was One Less Name To Hate.

Every Man Should Lose A Battle In His Youth, So He Does Not Lose A War When He Is Old.

The Worst Isn't Done. The Worst Is Just Beginning, And There Are No Happy Endings. (samuel Tarly)

Why Ask For Truth," Ser Barristan Said Softly, "if You Close Your Ears To It?

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.

Not All Men Were Meant To Dance With Dragons.

It's Different For Every Writer. It's Not A Career For Anyone Who Needs Security. It's A Career For Gamblers. It's A Career Of Ups And Downs.

Contempt, Thought Tyrion, The Universal Tongue.

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.

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.

A Lord Must Learn That Sometimes Words Can Accomplish What Swords Cannot.

That Was The Way Of This Cold World, Where Men Fished The Sea And Dug In The Ground And Died, Whilst Women Brought Forth Short-lived Children From Beds Of Blood And Pain.

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.

'dreamsongs' Allows Me To Show The Scope Of My Writing - With Personal Commentary That Puts The Works In Context And Includes Some Autobiographical Details Intended To Reveal How Each Piece Came To Be, What It Represents, And How It Has Formed, Or Been Informed By, My Philosophy Of Writing.

I Am Not Questioning Your Honor, I Am Denying Its Existence.

Littlefinger Looked Like A Boy Who Had Just Taken A Furtive Bite From A Honeycomb. He Was Trying To Watch For Bees, But The Honey Was So Sweet.

Better To Mock The Game Than To Play And Lose.

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

I Have A Huge Emotional Attachment To Characters I've Created, Especially The Viewpoint Characters.

Only The Soldier Pines And Sentinels Still Showed Green; The Broadleaf Trees Had Donned Mantles Of Russet And Gold, Or Else Uncloaked Themselves To Scratch Against The Sky With Branches Brown And Bare.

The Best Calumnies Are Spiced With Truth.

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

When You Know What A Man Wants You Know Who He Is, And How To Move Him.

Ser Barristan Loves His Honor, Grand Maester Pycelle Loves His Office, And Littlefinger Loves Littlefinger.

The Most Important Thing For Any Aspiring Writer, Is To Read! And Not Just The Sort Of Thing You're Trying To Write, Be That Fantasy, Sf, Comic Books, Whatever. You Need To Read Everything.

This Is Not Winterfell', He Told Him As He Cut His Meat With Fork And Dagger. 'on The Wall, A Man Gets Only What He Earns. You're No Ranger, Jon, Only A Green Boy With The Smell Of Summer Still On You.

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

I Had This Desire To See The World. I Couldn't See Any Of It, But I Saw It In My Imagination, And That's Why I Always Read Books, And I Could Go To Mars Or Middle Earth Or The Hyborian Age.

Littlefinger: A Trade Envoy From Lys Once Observed To Me That Lord Stannis Must Love His Daughter Very Well, Since He'd Erected Hundreds Of Statues Of Her All Along The Walls Of Dragonstone. Tyrion: My Lord, Those Are Gargoyles.

Courage And Folly Are Cousins, Or So I’ve Heard.

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.

The Sea Is Never Weary. I Must Be As Tireless.

And I Tell You Truly, Danaerys, There Is No Man In All The World Who Will Ever Be Half So True To You As Me.

What's Dead May Never Die.

Valar Morghulis - All Men Must Die.

Winter Is Coming

In King’s Landing, There Are Two Sorts Of People. The Players And The Pieces… Every Man’s A Piece To Start With, And Every Maid As Well. Even Some Who Think They Are Players." Petyr Baelish

She Remembered The Godswood, Drooping Branches Heavy With Moisture, And The Sound Of Her Brother’s Laughter As He Chased Her Through Piles Of Damp Leaves.

I Don't Like The Strictly Objective Viewpoint [in Which All Of The Characters' Actions Are Described In The Third Person, But We Never Hear What Any Of Them Are Thinking.] Which Is Much More Of A Cinematic Technique. Something Written In Third Person Objective Is What The Camera Sees. Because Unless You're Doing A Voiceover, Which Is Tremendously Clumsy, You Can't Hear The Ideas Of Characters. For That, We Depend On Subtle Clues That The Directors Put In And That The Actors Supply. I Can Actually Write, "'yes You Can Trust Me,' He Lied." [but It's Better To Get Inside The Characters' Heads.]

I Buried Him With Mine Own Hands, In A Place He Showed Me Once When I Was A Squire At Storm’s End. No One Shall Ever Find Him There To Disturb His Rest.” He Looked At Jaime Defiantly. “i Will Defend King Tommen With All My Strength, I Swear It. I Will Give My Life For His If Need Be. But I Will Never Betray Renly, By Word Or Deed. He Was The King That Should Have Been. He Was The Best Of Them.

My Dreams Are The Usual Incoherent Nonsense. Like Most Writers, At Some Point In My Career I Thought, Well, I Have These Great Dreams But I Always Forget Them In The Morning So I’ll Leave A Pad On My Bedside Table So I Can Write It Down, And Then You Have Some Incredible Dream And You Write It Down And The Next Morning You Wake Up And You’ve Written ‘purple Socks’.

A Fair Bargain Leaves Both Sides Unhappy.

I Watch Nfl Football On Sundays. I Enjoy Gaming With Friends, Meaning Role-playing Games; I Still Enjoy Going To Conventions And Traveling.

A True Man Does What He Will, Not What He Must.

But A Voice Inside Her Whispered, There Are No Heroes, And She Remembered What Lord Petyr Had Said To Her, Here In This Very Hall. 'life Is Not A Song, Sweetling,' He'd Told Her, 'you May Learn That One Day To Your Sorrow.' In Life, The Monsters Win, She Told Herself.

Robert Was The True Steel. Stannis Is Pure Iron, Black And Hard And Strong, Yes, But Brittle, The Way Iron Gets. He'll Break Before He Bends. And Renly, That One, He's Copper, Bright And Shiny, Pretty To Look At But Not Worth All That Much At The End Of The Day.

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.

Unfortunately In Television, For Whatever Reason, Fantasy Became Thought Of As A Kids' Genre.

Viserys Sold My Mother's Crown, And Men Called Him A Beggar. I Shall Keep This One, So Men Will Call Me A Queen. (daenerys)

Summer Is The Time For Squabbles. In Winter, We Must Protect One Another, Keep Each Other Warm, Share Our Strengths.

And The Mystery Knight Should Defeat All Challengers And Name The Wolf Maid The Queen Of Love And Beauty.

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.

It Is One Thing To Be Clever And Another To Be Wise.

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.

...and When You’ve Known Me Longer, You’ll Learn That I Mean Everything I Say.” “even The Lies?” “especially The Lies.

One Of The Hardest Parts Of Writing Is Writing From The Gut Or The Heart Or Something Like That Rather Than Intellectually.

There Are Ghosts Everywhere," Ser Jorah Said Softly. "we Carry Them With Us Wherever We Go.

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.

When A Pirate Grows Rich Enough, They Make Him A Prince.

You May Be As Different As The Sun And The Moon, But The Same Blood Flows Through Both Your Hearts. You Need Her, As She Needs You.

Everything's Better With Some Wine In The Belly.

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

Jay Wondered How They'd Feel The Morning They All Woke Up And Realized That Somehow Camelot Had Turned Into Mordor.

We All Dream Of Things We Cannot Have.

Noseless And Handless, The Lannister Boys.

Half-truths Are Worth More Than Outright Lies.

As A Writer, My Goal, (which I'm Never Going To Achieve, And I Know That, And No Writer Can Achieve That,) But My Goal Is To Make You Almost Live The Books. I Want You To Fall Through That Page And Feel As If These Things Are Happening To You.

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.

He Pushed Away From Her And Raised His Arm, Forcing His Stump Into Her Face. "a Hand Without A Hand? A Bad Jape, Sister. Don't Ask Me To Rule.

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.

More Details, More Devils.

I Can See A Scene In My Head, And When I Try To Get It Down In Words On Paper, The Words Are Clunky; The Scene Is Not Coming Across Right. So Frustrating. And There Are Days Where It Keeps Flowing. Open The Floodgates, And There It Is. Pages And Pages Coming. Where The Hell Does This All Come From? I Don't Know.

Believe It Or Not, I Worked Four Summers In College As A Sports Writer Covering Baseball For A Parks And Rec Department In Bayonne, N.j.

Tyrion Wondered What It Would Be Like To Have A Twin, And Decided That He Would Rather Not Know. Bad Enough To Face Himself In A Looking Glass Every Day.

I've Always Taken That As My Guiding Principle And The Rest Is Just Set Dressing. You Can Have Dragons In It, Or Aliens And Starships, Or A Western About A Gunslinger, Or Even Literary Fiction, And Ultimately You're Still Writing About The Human Heart In Conflict With Itself.

When Maester Aemon Heard Him Sing, He Said His Voice Was Honey Poured Over Thunder.

Perhaps I Will Die Too, She Told Herself, And The Thought Did Not Seem So Terrible To Her. If She Flung Herself From The Window, She Could Put An End To Her Suffering, And In The Years To Come The Singers Would Write Songs Of Her Grief. Her Body Would Lie On The Stones Below, Broken And Innocent, Shaming All Those Who Had Betrayed Her. Sansa Went So Far As To Cross The Bedchamber And Throw Open The Shutters ... But Then Her Courage Left Her, And She Ran Back To Her Bed, Sobbing.

And What Lesson Can We Draw From Volantene History? If You Want To Conquer The World, You Best Have Dragons.

Conquer The World

A Bag Of Dragons Buys A Man's Silence For A While, But A Well-placed Quarrel Buys It Forever.

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.

An Honest Kiss, A Little Kindness, Everyone Deserves That Much, However Big Or Small.

I Want To Weep, She Thought. I Want To Be Comforted. I'm So Tired Of Being Strong. I Want To Be Foolish And Frightened For Once. Just For A Small While, That's All....a Day.....an Hour.

Nothing. My Father Is Very Good At Doing Nothing. He Calls It Thinking.

People Often Claim To Hunger For Truth, But Seldom Like The Taste When It's Served Up.

Wind And Words. We Are Only Human, And The Gods Have Fashioned Us For Love. That Is Our Great Glory, And Our Great Tragedy.

I Heard A Lannister Always Pays His Debts." "oh, Every Penny....but Never A Groat More. You'll Get The Meal You Bargained For, But It Won't Be Sauced With Gratitude, And In The End It Will Not Nourish You.

And I Have A Tender Spot In My Heart For Cripples And Bastards And Broken Things.

Eat Your Heart Out, Rowling. Maybe You Have Billions Of Dollars And My Hugo, But You Don't Have Readers Like These.

One Night, In His Cups, He Drank A Jar Of Wildfire, After Telling His Friends It Would Transform Him Into A Dragon, But The Gods Were Kind And It Transformed Him Into A Corpse.

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

If Somebody Dies And You Just Go Get More Popcorn, It’s A Superficial Experience Isn’t It?

There Is Magic In My Universe, But It's Pretty Low Magic Compared To Other Fantasies.

Art Is Not A Democracy. People Don't Get To Vote On How It Ends.

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

The Gods Are Blind. And Men See Only What They Wish" - Tyrion Lannister

Ned Was Clad In A White Linen Doublet With The Direwolf Of Stark On The Breast; His Black Wool Cloak Was Fastened At The Collar By His Silver Hand Of Office. Black And White And Grey, All The Shades Of Truth.

Black And White

His Sister Liked To Think Of Herself As Lord Tywin With Teats, But She Was Wrong. Their Father Had Been As Relentless And Implacable As A Glacier, Where Cercei Was All Wildfire, Especially When Thwarted.

He Was Beastly Tired, But It Was Hard To Stop. One More Book, He Had Told Himself, Then I'll Stop. One More Folio, Just One More. One More Page, Then I'll Go Up And Rest And Get A Bite To Eat. But There Was Always Another Page After That One, And Another After That, And Another Book Waiting Underneath The Pile. I'll Just Take A Quick Peek To See What This One Is About, He'd Think, And Before He Knew He Would Be Halfway Through It.

Historical Fiction Is Not History. You're Blending Real Events And Actual Historical Personages With Characters Of Your Own Creation.

How Do You Fight Someone If You Can't Hit Them?

The Years Leech At A Man's Memories, Even Those He Has Vowed Never To Forget.

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

There Are Two Kinds Of Writers. There Are Architects And Gardeners. The Architects Do Blueprints Before They Drive The First Nail. The Gardeners Just Dig A Hole And Plant The Seed And See What Comes Up.

Nothing Burns Like The Cold.

But My Philosophy Is That Plot Advancement Is Not What The Experience Of Reading Fiction Is About. If All We Care About Is Advancing The Plot, Why Read Novels? We Can Just Read Cliffs Notes.

They Say Night's Beauties Fade At Dawn, And The Children Of Wine Are Oft Disowned In The Morning Light.

Woman?” She Chuckled. “is That Meant To Insult Me? I Would Return The Slap, If I Took You For A Man.” Dany Met His Stare. “i Am Daenerys Stormborn Of House Targaryen, The Unburnt, Mother Of Dragons, Khaleesi To Drogo’s Riders, And Queen Of The Seven Kingdoms Of Westeros.

No One Who Wears A Crown Is Ever Safe.

Sins May Be Forgiven. Crimes Require Punishment.

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.

Pyp Had Stabbed A Turnip With His Knife. "the Night Is Dark And Full Of Turnips," He Announced In A Solemn Voice. "let Us All Pray For Venison, My Children, With Some Onions And A Bit Of Tasty Gravy.

Arya Lifted Her Gaze From The Dead Man And His Dead Dog. Jaqen H'ghar Was Leaning Up Against The Side Of The Wailing Tower. When He Saw Her Looking, He Lifted A Hand To His Face And Laid Two Fingers Casually Against His Cheek.

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Everett Dirksen

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