As We Sin, So Do

I Believe That Women Are Many Different Types Of People. There Are Brave Women, There Are Cowardly Women, There Are Altruistic Women, There Are Selfish Women. Most People Are A Combination Of The Same.

Time Is Different For A Tree Than For A Man. Sun And Soil And Water, These Are The Things A Weirwood Understands, Not Days And Years And Centuries. For Men, Time Is A River. We Are Trapped In Its Flow, Hurtling From Past To Present, Always In The Same Direction. The Lives Of Trees Are Different. They Root And Grow And Die In One Place, And That River Does Not Move Them. The Oak Is The Acorn, The Acorn Is The Oak.

My Featherbed Is Deep And Soft, And There I’ll Lay You Down, I’ll Dress You All In Yellow Silk And On Your Head A Crown. For You Shall Be My Lady Love, And I Shall Be Your Lord. I’ll Always Keep You Warm And Safe, And Guard You With My Sword. And How She Smiled And How She Laughed, The Maiden Of The Tree. She Spun Away And Said To Him, No Featherbed For Me. I’ll Wear A Gown Of Golden Leaves, And Bind My Hair With Grass, But You Can Be My Forest Love, And Me Your Forest Lass.

Nobody Is A Villain In Their Own Story. We're All The Heroes Of Our Own Stories.

She Had Killed Him With A Whisper, And She Would Kill Two More Before She Was Through. I’m The Ghost In Harrenhal, She Thought. And That Night, There Was One Less Name To Hate.