That Little Touch Is Not In The

I Love You Too, Sweet Sister. But You're A Fool. A Beautiful Golden Fool.

A Few Days Ago She Had Been Wandering Around With A Swatch Of Black Silk Tied Over Her Eyes. Syrio Was Teaching Her To See With Her Ears And Her Nose And Her Skin, She Told Him. Before That, He Had Her Doing Spinds And Back Flips. "arya, Are You Certain You Want To Persist In This?" She Nodded. "tomorrow We're Going To Catch Cats." "cats." Ned Sighed.

The Common People Pray For Rain, Healthy Children And A Summer That Never Ends. It Is No Matter To Them If The High Lords Play Their Game Of Thrones, So Long As They Are Left In Peace.

In Order To Get Inside Their Skin, I Have To Identify With Them. That Includes Even The Ones Who Are Complete Bastards, Nasty, Twisted, Deeply Flawed Human Beings With Serious Psychological Problems. Even Them. When I Get Inside Their Skin And Look Out Through Their Eyes, I Have To Feel A Certain - If Not Sympathy, Certainly Empathy For Them. I Have To Try To Perceive The World As They Do, And That Creates A Certain Amount Of Affection.

Can They Love Without A Word For It?