The Best Writing Advice I Had Was

Perhaps I Will Die Too, She Told Herself, And The Thought Did Not Seem So Terrible To Her. If She Flung Herself From The Window, She Could Put An End To Her Suffering, And In The Years To Come The Singers Would Write Songs Of Her Grief. Her Body Would Lie On The Stones Below, Broken And Innocent, Shaming All Those Who Had Betrayed Her. Sansa Went So Far As To Cross The Bedchamber And Throw Open The Shutters ... But Then Her Courage Left Her, And She Ran Back To Her Bed, Sobbing.

Sometimes I Think Some Of My Fellow Novelists Who Have Not Worked In Television And Film Are Very Naive About This Process. They Get An Offer And There's The Dump Truck Full Of Money And They Sign It, They Cash The Check And Then They're Not Involved In The Series. They May Get Invited To The Premiere And They Come Out Of The Premiere Looking Like All Of Their Children Had Just Been Gassed, With A Stunned Look On Their Face Because Everything Has Been Changed.

When You Have Known The Kiss Of A Flaying Knife, A Laugh Loses All Its Power To Hurt You.

If Half An Onion Is Black With Rot, It Is A Rotten Onion. A Man Is Good Or He Is Evil. (melisandre Of Asshai)

And Who Are You, The Proud Lord Said That I Must Bow So Low? Only A Cat Of A Different Coat, That's All The Truth I Know. In A Coat Of Gold Or A Coat Of Red, A Lion Still Has Claws. And, Mine Are As Long And Sharp, My Lord As Long And Sharp As Yours. And So He Spoke, And So He Spoke, That Lord Of Castamere, But Now The Rains Weep O'er His Hall, With No One There To Hear. Yes, Now The Rains Weep O'er His Hall, And Not A Soul To Hear.