A Man Who Hates Music Can’t Be

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

Has My Tale Turned You Speechless? Come, Curse Me Or Kiss Me Or Call Me A Liar. Something.

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?

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

Writing Is Like Sausage Making In My View; You'll All Be Happier In The End If You Just Eat The Final Product Without Knowing What's Gone Into It.