I Just Need To Rest, That’s All,

Why Do The Gods Make Kings And Queens If Not To Protect The Ones Who Can't Protect Themselves?

I Was Always Intensely Romantic, Even When I Was Too Young To Understand What That Meant.

One Of The Things I Love, And I'm A Voracious Reader As Well As A Writer, Is Books That Surprise Me, That Are Not Predictable.

Needle Was Robb And Bran And Rickon, Her Mother And Her Father, Even Sansa. Needle Was Winterfell's Grey Walls, And The Laughter Of Its People. Needle Was The Summer Snows, Old Nan's Stories, The Heart Tree With Its Red Leaves And Scary Face, The Warm Earthy Smell Of The Glass Gardens, The Sound Of The North Wind Rattling The Shutters Of Her Room. Needle Was Jon Snow's Smile. He Used To Mess My Hair And Call Me "little Sister," She Remembered, And Suddenly There Were Tears In Her Eyes.

If The Novels Are Still Being Read In 50 Years, No One Is Ever Going To Say: 'what's Great About That Sixth Book Is That He Met His Deadline!' It Will Be About How The Whole Thing Stands Up.