I work for two years on a book and it comes out and two days later I've got my first e-mail: When is the next one coming out?

He raised his eyes. "Sister. See. This time I knew you." Asha's heart skipped a beat. "Theon?" His lips skinned back in what might have been a grin. Half his teeth were gone, and half those still left him were broken and splintered. "Theon," he repeated. "My name is Theon. You have to know your name.

I am loyal to my beloved Joffrey. (Sansa) No doubt. As loyal as a deer surrounded by wolves. (Tyrion) Lions, she whispered without thinking.

He wished he could relieve himself of his doubts and guilts half as easily.

The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die.

"Weese," she would whisper, first of all. "Dunsen, Chiswyck, Polliver, Raff the Sweetling. The Tickler and the Hound. Ser Gregor, Ser Armory, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, King Joffrey, Queen Cersei."

There’s part of me that loves words. But sometimes it feels like you’re trying to drive nails with your shoe.