We're All Just Songs In The End.

The Girl Had Hoped For Fog, But The Gods Ignored Her Prayers As Gods So Often Did.

I Would Choose Freedom Over Comfort Every Time.

I Heard Of A Man Who Had A Razor Made Of Valyrian Steel. He Cut His Head Off Trying To Shave.

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

She Would Die As She Had Lived, With An Axe In Her Hand And A Laugh Upon Her Lips.