I Know Nothing And Perhaps I Never

His Sister Liked To Think Of Herself As Lord Tywin With Teats, But She Was Wrong. Their Father Had Been As Relentless And Implacable As A Glacier, Where Cercei Was All Wildfire, Especially When Thwarted.

The Morning Air Was Dark With The Smoke Of Burning Gods.

Sleep Is Good, He Said, And Books Are Better.

Oh, My Sweet Summer Child," Old Nan Said Quietly, "what Do You Know Of Fear? Fear Is For The Winter, My Little Lord, When The Snows Fall A Hundred Feet Deep And The Ice Wind Comes Howling Out Of The North. Fear Is For The Long Night, When The Sun Hides Its Face For Years At A Time, And Little Children Are Born And Live And Die All In Darkness While The Direwolves Grow Gaunt And Hungry, And The White Walkers Move Through The Woods

Tomorrow's Trials Concerned Her More Than Yesterday's Triumphs.