Only lies offend me, never honest counsel.

I thank you for calling them off, young ser. I promise you, they would have found me indigestible.

I know nothing and perhaps I never will.

Her lord father had taught her never to steal, but it was growing harder to remember why.

I don’t know what message to send to Bran. Help him Tyrion.” “What help could I give him? I am no maester, to ease his pain. I have no spell to give him back his legs.” “You gave me help when I needed it” Jon Snow said. “I gave you nothing,” Tyrion said. “Words.” “Then give your words to Bran too.

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.

Summer will end soon enough, and childhood as well.