Everyone Knew What He Was Thinking. Certainly

So Yes. It Had Flaws, But What Does That Matter When It Comes To Matters Of The Heart? We Love What We Love. Reason Does Not Enter Into It. In Many Ways, Unwise Love Is The Truest Love. Anyone Can Love A Thing Because. That's As Easy As Putting A Penny In Your Pocket. But To Love Something Despite. To Know The Flaws And Love Them Too. That Is Rare And Pure And Perfect.

Half A King Is My Favorite Book By Joe Abercrombie So Far, And That's Saying Something.

He Had A Bright, Reckless Tenor That Was Always Wandering Off, Looking For Notes In The Wrong Places.

I Also Felt Guilty About The Three Pens I'd Stolen, But Only For A Second. And Since There Was No Convenient Way To Give Them Back, I Stole A Bottle Of Ink Before I Left.

Then I Felt Something Inside Me Break And Music Began To Pour Out Into The Quiet. My Fingers Danced; Intricate And Quick They Spun Something Gossamer And Tremulous Into The Circle Of Light Our Fire Had Made. The Music Moved Like A Spiderweb Stirred By A Gentle Breath, It Changed Like A Leaf Twisting As It Falls To The Ground, And It Felt Like Three Years Waterside In Tarbean, With A Hollowness Inside You And Hands That Ached From The Bitter Cold.