Sleep is a little death, dreams the whisperings of the Other, who would drag us all into his eternal night.

Men live their lives trapped in an eternal present, between the mists of memory and the sea of shadow that is all we know of the days to come.

A lot of writing takes place in the subconscious, and it's bound to have an effect.

'Dreamsongs' allows me to show the scope of my writing - with personal commentary that puts the works in context and includes some autobiographical details intended to reveal how each piece came to be, what it represents, and how it has formed, or been informed by, my philosophy of writing.

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

Sometimes there is no happy choice, Sam, only one less grievous than the others. - Jon Snow

Ned was clad in a white linen doublet with the direwolf of Stark on the breast; his black wool cloak was fastened at the collar by his silver hand of office. Black and white and grey, all the shades of truth.