What Would A Frey Know Of Honor?

Some Men Want Whores On The Eve Of Battle, And Some Want Gods. Jon Wondered Who Felt Better Afterward.

Wine Makes All Things Possible. George R. R. Martin, The Mystery Knight A Cold Wind Was Blowing From The North, And It Made The Trees Rustle Like Living Things. George R. R. Martin, A Game Of Thrones Nothing Burns Like The Cold. George R. R. Martin, A Game Of Thrones Laughter Is Poison To Fear.

From Where I Sit, Battles Are Hard. I’ve Written My Share. Sometimes I Employ The Private’s Viewpoint, Very Up Close And Personal, Dropping The Reader Right Into The Middle Of The Carnage. That’s Vivid And Visceral, But Of Necessity Chaotic, And It Is Easy To Lose All Sense Of The Battle As A Whole. Sometimes I Go With The General’s Point Of View Instead, Looking Down From On High, Seeing Lines And Flanks And Reserves. That Gives A Great Sense Of The Tactics, Of How The Battle Is Won Or Lost, But Can Easily Slide Into Abstraction.

Writing Is Like Sausage Making In My View; You'll All Be Happier In The End If You Just Eat The Final Product Without Knowing What's Gone Into It.

Ser Jaime?" Even In Soiled Pink Satin And Torn Lace, Brienne Looked More Like A Man In A Gown Than A Proper Woman."i Am Grateful, But...you Were Well Away. Why Come Back?" A Dozen Quips Came To Mind, Each Crueler Than The One Before, But Jaime Only Shrugged. "i Dreamed Of You," He Said.