There Are No Men Like Me. There's

I Have Always Been A Dark Writer.

He Did Not Know Which Was More Painful, The Waking Or The Sleeping. When He Slept, He Dreamed: Dark Disturbing Dreams Of Blood And Broken Promises. When He Woke, There Was Nothing To Do But Think, And His Waking Thoughts Were Worse Than Nightmares.

Why Is It That When One Man Builds A Wall, The Next Man Immediately Needs To Know What's On The Other Side?

Catelyn Wanted To Run To Him, To Kiss His Sweet Brow, To Wrap Him In Her Arms So Tightly That He Would Never Come To Harm.

I Know Nothing And Perhaps I Never Will.