Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid

-William Ernest Henley, Invictus

Go at it boldly, and you'll find unexpected forces closing round you and coming to your aid.

-Basil King

There's no shame in being afraid. Hell, we're all afraid. What you gotta do is figure out what you're afraid of, because when you put a face on it you can beat it. Better yet, you can use it.

-One Tree Hill, Whitey

Winter is coming

George R.R. Martin, Game Of Thrones

Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armour yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.

- George R.R. Martin, Game Of Thrones

Fear cuts deeper than swords

- George R.R. Martin, Game Of Thrones

What is honor compared to a woman's love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms . . . or the memory of a brother's smile? Wind and words. Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.

-George R.R. Martin, Game Of Thrones

Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.

-George R.R. Martin, Game Of Thrones

And I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples and bastards and broken things.

-George R.R. Martin, Game Of Thrones

The things we love destroy us every time, lad. Remember that.

-George R.R. Martin, Game Of Thrones

Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens.

- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Not all those who wander are lost.

- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end. Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot. Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines. Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?

We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.

They can keep their heaven. When I die, I’d sooner go to Middle-Earth.

-George R.R. Martin