The truth is all around you, plain to behold. The night is dark and full of terrors, the day bright and beautiful and full of hope. One is black, the other white. There is ice and there is fire. Hate and love. Bitter and sweet. Male and female. Pain and pleasure. Winter and summer. Evil and good. Death and life. Everywhere, opposites.

I swear to you, sitting a throne is a thousand times harder than winning one.

Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same.

That night the wind was howling almost like a wolf and there were some real wolves off to the west giving it lessons.

His eyes were open wounds beneath his heavy brows, a blue as dark as the sea by night.

Writing is like sausage making in my view; you'll all be happier in the end if you just eat the final product without knowing what's gone into it.

Something about the howling of a wolf took a man right out of his here and now and left him in a dark forest of the mind, running naked before the pack.