The Man Who Passes The Sentence Should

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.

Robert Wanted To Be Loved. My Brother Tyrion Has The Same Disease. Do You Want To Be Loved, Sansa?” “everyone Wants To Be Loved.” “i See Flowering Hasn’t Made You Any Brighter,” Said Cersei. “sansa, Permit Me To Share A Bit Of Womanly Wisdom With You On This Very Special Day. Love Is Poison. A Sweet Poison, Yes, But It Will Kill You All The Same.

A Lot Of Fantasy Names Are Too Much. They’re Too Difficult To Pronounce. I Wanted The Flavour Of Medieval England. I Took Actual Names We Still Use Today, Like ‘robert’, And In Some Case I Tweaked Them A Little Bit. I Made ‘edward’ Into ‘eddard’. If You Look Back At Medieval Times, No One Knew How To Spell Their Own Names. There Are A Lot Of Variations That We’ve Lost.

If I Could Wish The Kingslayer Back In Chains I Would. You Freed Him Without My Knowledge Or Consent... But What You Did, I Know You Did For Love. For Arya And Sansa, And Out Of Grief For Bran And Rickon. Love’s Not Always Wise, I’ve Learned. It Can Lead Us To Great Folly, But We Follow Our Hearts... Wherever They Take Us. Don’t We, Mother?

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