You Lie. Worse, You Lie

Not All Books Are For All People. We Read For Different Reasons.

Words Are Wind, Brienne Told Herself. They Cannot Hurt You. Let Them Wash Over You.

When We Speak Of The Morrow Nothing Is Ever Certain.

You Know Nothing, Jon Snow

The Old Man Laid A Withered, Spotted Hand On His Shoulder. "it Hurts, Boy," He Said Softly. "oh, Yes. Choosing . . . It Has Always Hurt. And Always Will. I Know.