The Beauty Raised Her Eyes, The Only

In My Dreams, I Kill Him Every Night,' Robert Admitted. 'a Thousand Deaths Will Still Be Less Than He Deserves'.

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.

I’d Be Anonymous. That’s What I’d Do Differently.

Catelyn Wanted To Run To Him, To Kiss His Sweet Brow, To Wrap Him In Her Arms So Tightly That He Would Never Come To Harm.

I Take No Joy In Mead Nor Meat, And Song And Laughter Have Become Suspicious Strangers To Me. I Am A Creature Of Grief And Dust And Bitter Longings. There Is An Empty Place Within Me Where My Heart Was Once.