One of the great things about books is you can afford to do anything.
George R. R. MartinRead
Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.
Interpretation
Some emotional wounds may remain painful and can be triggered by reminders.
This quote highlights the idea that certain emotional traumas, despite the passage of time, may never completely heal. They linger beneath the surface, ready to resurface with the slightest provocation, reminding us of the lasting impact of our experiences and the sensitivity of our emotions.
In practice
In a counseling session discussing trauma and emotional healing.
One of the great things about books is you can afford to do anything.
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.
There is only one god and his name is Death. And there is only one thing we say to Death: βNot today.
I did not do it. Yet now I wish I had.β He turned to face the hall, that sea of pale faces. βI wish I had enough poison for you all. You make me sorry that I am not the monster you would have me be, yet there it is. I am innocent, but I will get no justice here.
But a voice inside her whispered, There are no heroes, and she remembered what Lord Petyr had said to her, here in this very hall. 'Life is not a song, sweetling,' he'd told her, 'You may learn that one day to your sorrow.' In life, the monsters win, she told herself.
I write from this tight third-person viewpoint, where each chapter is seen through the eyes of one individual character. When I'm writing that character, I become that character and identify with that character.
People don't always express their inner thoughts to one another; a conversation may be quite trivial, but often the eyes will reveal what a person really thinks or feels.
Greater things are believed of those who are absent.
What Iβve loved most after you, is myself: that is, my dignity and that strength which made me superior to other men. That Strength was my life. Youβve broken it with a word, so I must die.
We all suffer from the preoccupation that there exists... in the loved one, perfection.
Whites know never tell blacks what you really think and what you really feel because you risk being seen as a racist. And the result of that is that to a degree, we as blacks live in a bubble. Nobody tells us the truth. Nobody tells us what they would do if they were in our situation. Nobody really helps us.
How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me, my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running. So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes, and over our heads the grey light unwinds in turning fans.
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