Black Moleskin Gloves Covered His Hands; The

Nothing Burns Like The Cold.

The High Septon Once Told Me That As We Sin, So Do We Suffer.

A Man Who Sees Nothing Has No Use For His Eyes,” The Mountain Declared. “cut Them Out And Give Them To Your Next Outrider. Tell Him You Hope That Four Eyes Might See Better Than Two . . . And If Not, The Man After Him Will Have Six.

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.

Will Holding A Secret In Your Heart Make It Any Less True? If You Never Tell, Never Speak Of It, Will It Become Only A Dream, Less Than A Dream, A Nightmare Half-remembered? Oh, If Only The Gods Would Be So Good. (catelyn)