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.

The sun will soon be setting, and corpses make poor company by night. These were dark and dangerous men, alive. I doubt that death will have improved them.

There has never been a slave who did not choose to be a slave. Their choice may be between bondage and death, but the choice is always there.

You were made to be kissed, often and well.

She might have wept then, had not the sky begun to do it for her.

Truly, sister, you were born to be a widow. (Tyrion to Cersei)

A mad man sees what he sees.