She had to find her own story, and she could make it whatever shape she thought best.
When your teeth are gone, learn to like mush.
Dying men think of funny things-and that's what we all are here, aren't we? Dying men.
Confident. Cocky. Lazy. Dead.
Has everyone gone mad?” “Everyone was mad already, my lady,” Cadrach said with a strange, sorrowful smile. “It is merely that the times have brought it out in them.
Every man is the hero of his own song.