That was the way of this cold world, where men fished the sea and dug in the ground and died, whilst women brought forth short-lived children from beds of blood and pain.

Irri and Jhiqui argued about Rakharo. “You are too skinny for him,” Jhiqui was saying. “You are almost a boy. Rakharo does not bed with boys. This is known.” Irri bristled back. “It is known that you are almost a cow. Rakharo does not bed with cows.

Some gave me soft words and some blunt, some made excuses, some promises, some only lied. In the end words are just wind.

A bruise is a lesson... and each lesson makes us better.

Great wrongs have been done you, but the past is dust. The future may yet be won.

When a man was hurt you took him to the maester, but what could you do when your maester was hurt?

He was no dragon, Dany thought, curiously calm. Fire cannot kill a dragon