The World Is Full Of

I Wrote Six Pilots, None Of Which Ever Got Picked Up. When You Stop Trying, It Then It Falls In Your Lap.

The Distinction Between Literary And Genre Fiction Is Stupid And Pernicious. It Dates Back To A Feud Between Robert Louis Stevenson And Henry James. James Won, And It Split Literature Into Two Streams. But It's A Totally False Dichotomy.

There Is A Savage Beast In Every Man, And When You Hand That Man A Sword Or Spear And Send Him Forth To War, The Beast Stirs.

Arya, What Are You Doing?" "syrio Says A Water Dancer Can Stand On One Toe For Hours." Her Hands Flailed At The Air To Steady Herself. Ned Had To Smile. "which Toe?" He Teased. "any Toe," Arya Said, Exasperated With The Question. She Hopped From Her Right Leg To Her Left, Swaying Dangerously Before She Regained Her Balance. "must You Do Your Standing Here?" He Asked. "it's A Long Hard Fall Down These Steps." "syrio Says A Water Dancer Never Falls.

True Knights Protect The Weak.” He Snorted. “there Are No True Knights, No More Than There Are Gods. If You Can’t Protect Yourself, Die And Get Out Of The Way Of Those Who Can. Sharp Steel And Strong Arms Rule This World, Don’t Ever Believe Any Different.” Sansa Backed Away From Him. “you’re Awful.” “i’m Honest. It’s The World That’s Awful.