Her Lord Father Had Taught Her Never

Politicians Were Mostly People Who'd Had Too Little Morals And Ethics To Stay Lawyers.

Men Are Men, Vows Are Words, And Words Are Wind.

I Don't Like The Strictly Objective Viewpoint [in Which All Of The Characters' Actions Are Described In The Third Person, But We Never Hear What Any Of Them Are Thinking.] Which Is Much More Of A Cinematic Technique. Something Written In Third Person Objective Is What The Camera Sees. Because Unless You're Doing A Voiceover, Which Is Tremendously Clumsy, You Can't Hear The Ideas Of Characters. For That, We Depend On Subtle Clues That The Directors Put In And That The Actors Supply. I Can Actually Write, "'yes You Can Trust Me,' He Lied." [but It's Better To Get Inside The Characters' Heads.]

Sam Loved To Listen To Music And Make His Own Songs, To Wear Soft Velvets, To Play In The Castle Kitchen Beside The Cooks, Drinking In The Rich Smells As He Snitched Lemon Cakes And Blueberry Tarts. His Passions Were Books And Kittens And Dancing, Clumsy As He 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.