Fiction is lies; we're writing about people who never existed and events that never happened when we write fiction, whether its science fiction or fantasy or western mystery stories or so-called literary stories. All those things are essentially untrue. But it has to have a truth at the core of it.

Wisdom oft comes from the mouth of babes.

Once, I cut off a man's head, but he did not know it until he tried to brush his hair. Then it fell off.

Do you want to die old and craven in your bed?- How else? Though not till I'm done reading.

When the red star bleeds and the darkness gathers, Azor Ahai shall be born again amidst smoke and salt to wake dragons out of stone.

Ser Cleos looked like a weasel, fought like a goose, and had the courage of an especially brave ewe.

I can see a scene in my head, and when I try to get it down in words on paper, the words are clunky; the scene is not coming across right. So frustrating. And there are days where it keeps flowing. Open the floodgates, and there it is. Pages and pages coming. Where the hell does this all come from? I don't know.