A Man Who Hates Music Can’t Be

The Pale Pink Light Of Dawn Sparkled On Branch And Leaf And Stone. Every Blade Of Grass Was Carved From Emerald, Every Drip Of Water Turned To Diamond. Flowers And Mushrooms Alike Wore Coats Of Glass. Even The Mud Puddles Had A Bright Brown Sheen. Through The Shimmering Greenery, The Black Tents Of His Brothers Were Encased In A Fine Glaze Of Ice. So There Is Magic Beyond The Wall After All.

I Always Give My Students Exercises Where They Really Have To Open A Vein And Bleed All Over The Paper And That's The Way You Get The Important Characters. Sooner Or Later Every Writer Worth Reading Writes A Story His Mother Wouldn't Read And Having To Get That Stuff Out Is Part Of One's Growth As A Writer.

It Was A Cruel Fate, Yet Not So Cruel As Mago's Will Be. I Promise You That, By The Old Gods And The New, By The Lamb God And The Horse God And Every God That Lives. I Swear By The Mother Of Mountains And The Womb Of The World. Before I Am Done With Them, Mago And Ko Jhaqo Will Plead For The Mercy They Showed Eroeh.

...spend My Time Warring And Whoring, That's What I Was Made For.

The Girl Had Hoped For Fog, But The Gods Ignored Her Prayers As Gods So Often Did.