Even In Dreams, You Could Not Fall

When We Speak Of The Morrow Nothing Is Ever Certain.

Don't Write Outlines; I Hate Outlines.

They Say Night's Beauties Fade At Dawn, And The Children Of Wine Are Oft Disowned In The Morning Light.

I Bet This Is A Brothel," She Whispered To Gendry. "you Don't Even Know What A Brothel Is." "i Do So," She Insisted. "it's Like An Inn, With Girls.

Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords.