You Do Not Steal From The Dragon,

Man Wants To Be The King O' The Rabbits, He Best Wear A Pair O' Floppy Ears.

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.

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.

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.

What Is Dead May Never Die, But Rises Again, Stronger And Harder.