A Crown Should Not Sit

Men Are Men, Vows Are Words, And Words Are Wind.

The Best Fantasy Is Written In The Language Of Dreams. It Is Alive As Dreams Are Alive, More Real Than Real, For A Moment At Least, That Long Magic Moment Before We Wake.

The City?" Tyrion Was Lost. "what City Would That Be?" "king's Landing. I Am Sending You To Court." It Was The Last Thing Tyrion Lannister Would Ever Have Anticipated. He Reached For His Wine, Considered For A Moment As He Sipped. "and What Am I To Do There?" "rule," His Father Said Curtly.

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

She Had Never Loved Him So Much As She Did In That Instant.