That man said he’d take your head too.” “Well, as to that,” Yoren said, “if he can get it off my shoulders, he’s welcome to it.

I am surrounded by flatterers and fools.

The truth of it is, writers do have peculiar relationships with their characters. They are our children in more senses than one. They are born of our imaginations, carry much of ourselves in them, and embody whatever dreams we dream of immortality.

But a voice inside her whispered, There are no heroes, and she remembered what Lord Petyr had said to her, here in this very hall. 'Life is not a song, sweetling,' he'd told her, 'You may learn that one day to your sorrow.' In life, the monsters win, she told herself.

They say night's beauties fade at dawn, and the children of wine are oft disowned in the morning light.

all men carry murder in their hearts, yet even so, the poisoner is beneath contempt.

Explain to me why it is more noble to kill ten thousand men in battle than a dozen at dinner.