The Morning Had Dawned Clear And Cold,

The Apples Stewed With Prunes Are Excellent, Except For The Prunes, I Won't Eat Prunes Myself. Well, There Was One Time When Hobb Chopped Them Up With Chesnuts And Carrots And Hid Them In A Hen. Never Trust A Cook, My Lord. They'll Prune You When You Least Expect It.

You Mistake Patience For Forbearance.

Schemes Are Like Fruit, They Require A Certain Ripening.

His Eyes Were Open Wounds Beneath His Heavy Brows, A Blue As Dark As The Sea By Night.

I Hate Outlines. I Have A Broad Sense Of Where The Story Is Going; I Know The End, I Know The End Of The Principal Characters, And I Know The Major Turning Points And Events From The Books, The Climaxes For Each Book, But I Don't Necessarily Know Each Twist And Turn Along The Way. That's Something I Discover In The Course Of Writing And That's What Makes Writing Enjoyable. I Think If I Outlined Comprehensively And Stuck To The Outline The Actual Writing Would Be Boring.