I have become a sour woman. I take no joy in meat nor mead, and song and laughter have become suspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter longings....
—George R.R.
One day, promised herself as she lay abed, one day she would allow herself to be less than strong.
Do Not Sell My Personal Information
Exercise your consumer rights by contacting us below Privacy Policy
[email protected]
Personalized advertisements
Turning this off will opt you out of personalized advertisements delivered from Google on this website.