You Do Not Steal From The Dragon,

Winter Will Never Come For The Likes Of Us. Should We Die In Battle, They Will Surely Sing Of Us, And It’s Always Summer In The Songs. In The Songs All Knights Are Gallant, All Maids Are Beautiful, And The Sun Is Always Shining.

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.

I Never Wanted To See Half The Things I've Seen, And I've Never Seen Half The Things I Wanted To. I Don't Think Wanting Comes Into It. You'd Best Go All The Same.

‎[melisandre] "his Grace Is Growing Fond Of You." [jon] "i Can Tell. He Only Threatened To Behead Me Twice." Page 58

Contempt, Thought Tyrion, The Universal Tongue.