It was bitingly cold up here,and the wind pulled at his clothes like an insistent lover.

If half an onion is black with rot, it is a rotten onion. A man is good or he is evil. (Melisandre of Asshai)

One of the hardest parts of writing is writing from the gut or the heart or something like that rather than intellectually.

The world is full of cravens who pretended to be heroes.

I prefer to work with grey characters rather than black and white.

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.

I dreamed... in the black of night a man asks all the questions he dare not ask by daylight. For me, the past years, only one question has remained. Why would the gods take my eyes and my strength, yet condemn me to linger on so long, frozen and forgotten? What use could they have for an old done man like me? ... I remember, Sam. I still remember. Remember what? Dragons, Aemon whispered.