Winter will never come for the likes of us. Should we die in battle, they will surely sing of us, and it’s always summer in the songs. In the songs all knights are gallant, all maids are beautiful, and the sun is always shining.

The best fantasy is written in the language of dreams. It is alive as dreams are alive, more real than real, for a moment at least, that long magic moment before we wake.

Some truths did not bear saying, and some lies were necessary.

Shagga son of Dolf likes this not. Shagga will go with the boyman, and if the boyman lies, Shagga will chop off his manhood-" "-and feed it to the goats, yes," Tyrion said wearily.

As much as I love historical fiction, my problem with historical fiction is that you always know what's going to happen.

This world is twisted beyond hope, when lowborn smugglers must vouch for the honor of kings.

It is better to be seen as cruel than foolish.