Different Roads Sometimes Lead To The Same

When You Smell Our Candles Burning, What Does It Make You Think Of, My Child?" Winterfell, She Might Have Said. I Smell Snow And Smoke And Pine Needles. I Smell The Stables. I Smell Hodor Laughing, And Jon And Robb Battling In The Yard, And Sansa Singing About Some Stupid Lady Fair. I Smell The Crypts Where The Stone Kings Sit. I Smell Hot Bread Baking. I Smell The Godswood. I Smell My Wolf. I Smell Her Fur, Almost As If She Were Still Beside Me. "i Don't Smell Anything," She Said.

I Will Teach Them What It Means To Put A Lion In A Cage, Cersei Thought.

The Way My Books Are Structured, Everyone Was Together, Then They All Went Their Separate Ways And The Story Deltas Out Like That, And Now It’s Getting To The Point Where The Story Is Beginning To Delta Back In, And The Viewpoint Characters Are Occasionally Meeting Up With Each Other Now And Being In The Same Point At The Same Time, Which Gives Me A Lot More Flexibility For Killing People.

This World Is Twisted Beyond Hope, When Lowborn Smugglers Must Vouch For The Honor Of Kings.

Can They Love Without A Word For It?