Bear Island knows no king but the King in the North, whose name is STARK.
You know what killed off the dinosaurs, Whateley? We did. In one barbecue.
Perfection is like chasing the horizon. Keep moving.
Dahling, when God put teeth in your mouth, he ruined a perfectly good arsehole.
Grown-ups don't look like grown-ups on the inside either. Outside, they're big and thoughtless and they always know what they're doing. Inside, they look just like they always have. Like they did when they were your age. Truth is, there aren't any grown-ups. Not one, in the whole wide world.
In a world where people die every day, I think the important thing to remember is that for each moment of sorrow we get when people leave this world there's a corresponding moment of joy when a new baby comes into this world. That first wail is-well, it's magic, isn't it? Perhaps it's a hard thing to say, but joy and sorrow are like milk and cookies. That's how well they go together. I think we should all take a moment to meditate on that.
I watched my life as if it were happening to someone else. My son died. And I was hurt, but I watched my hurt, and even relished it, a little, for now I could write a real death, a true loss. My heart was broken by my dark lady, and I wept, in my room, alone; but while I wept, somewhere inside I smiled.
The world meets nobody halfway. When you want something, you gotta take it.
Everyone tells us you really don't know what you're capable of till you're in the middle of it.
Procrastination is also a subtle act of corruption – it corrupts valuable time
SF isn't a genre; SF is the matrix in which genres are embedded, and because the SF field is never going in any one direction at any one time, there is hardly a way to cut it off.