We're All Just Songs In

Too Stupid To Learn And Too Stupid To Give Up.

A Bear! A Bear! All Black And Brown And Covered In Hair!

From Where I Sit, Battles Are Hard. I’ve Written My Share. Sometimes I Employ The Private’s Viewpoint, Very Up Close And Personal, Dropping The Reader Right Into The Middle Of The Carnage. That’s Vivid And Visceral, But Of Necessity Chaotic, And It Is Easy To Lose All Sense Of The Battle As A Whole. Sometimes I Go With The General’s Point Of View Instead, Looking Down From On High, Seeing Lines And Flanks And Reserves. That Gives A Great Sense Of The Tactics, Of How The Battle Is Won Or Lost, But Can Easily Slide Into Abstraction.

I Dreamed... In The Black Of Night A Man Asks All The Questions He Dare Not Ask By Daylight. For Me, The Past Years, Only One Question Has Remained. Why Would The Gods Take My Eyes And My Strength, Yet Condemn Me To Linger On So Long, Frozen And Forgotten? What Use Could They Have For An Old Done Man Like Me? ... I Remember, Sam. I Still Remember. Remember What? Dragons, Aemon Whispered.

Once She Had Loved Prince Joffrey With All Her Heart, And Admired And Trusted Her His Mother, The Queen. They Had Repaid That Love And Trust With Her Father's Head. Sansa Would Never Make That Mistake Again.