Some Truths Did Not Bear Saying, And

How Do You Fight Someone If You Can't Hit Them?

A Dead Enemy Is A Joy Forever

I'm Not A Writer Who's Preaching Some Particular Philosophy Or Something But The Big Questions Do Concern Me And I Like To Make My Readers Think And Debate And Argue With Each Other And Look At Some Aspect Of The World Or Some Act Of Governance Or War Or Power And Have An Angle They Haven't Considered Before, And That's Something I Strive For And Hopefully Have Accomplished.

A Few Days Ago She Had Been Wandering Around With A Swatch Of Black Silk Tied Over Her Eyes. Syrio Was Teaching Her To See With Her Ears And Her Nose And Her Skin, She Told Him. Before That, He Had Her Doing Spinds And Back Flips. "arya, Are You Certain You Want To Persist In This?" She Nodded. "tomorrow We're Going To Catch Cats." "cats." Ned Sighed.

It Was The Easiest Thing In The World For Arya To Step Up Behind Him And Stab Him. “is There Gold Hidden In The Village?” She Shouted As She Drove The Blade Up Through His Back. “is There Silver? Gems?” She Stabbed Twice More. “is There Food? Where Is Lord Beric?” She Was On Top Of Him By Then, Still Stabbing. “where Did He Go? How Many Men Were With Him? How Many Knights? How Many Bowmen? How Many, How Many, How Many, How Many, How Many, How Many? Is There Gold In The Village?