I Am Surrounded By Flatterers

I Prefer My History Dead. Dead History Is Writ In Ink, The Living Sort In Blood.

I Am Surrounded By Flatterers And Fools. It Can Drive A Man To Madness,.. . Half Of Them Don’t Dare Tell Me The Truth, And The Other Half Can’t Find It.

There Are A Number Of Things That I'm Trying To Get Into The Books. There's A Meta-fictional Aspect, If I May Use That Pretentious Word, To Writing Anything. You're Writing In The Shadow Of All The People That Have Gone Before And, In A Way, You're Having A Dialogue With Them. As Someone Who's Read J.r. Tolkien And Robert E. Howard And All The Great Fantasists Before, This Is Almost My Answer To Them.

Tarly, When I Was A Lad Half Your Age, My Lady Mother Told Me That If I Stood About With My Mouth Open, A Weasel Was Like To Mistake It For His Lair And Run Down My Throat. If You Have Something To Say, Say It. Otherwise, Beware Of Weasels.

How Much Can A Crown Be Worth, When A Crow Can Dine Upon A King?