“ DADDYYou do not do, you do not doAny more, black shoeIn which I have lived like a footFor thirty years, poor and white,Barely daring to breathe or Achoo. Daddy, I have had to kill you.You died before… Sylvia Plath
“ ...his voice was like the cracking of ice on a winter lake, and the words were mocking George R.R. Martin
