All fiction has to have a certain amount of truth in it to be powerful.

Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli.

Bear Island knows no king but the King in the North, whose name is STARK.

The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.

The city?" Tyrion was lost. "What city would that be?" "King's Landing. I am sending you to court." It was the last thing Tyrion Lannister would ever have anticipated. He reached for his wine, considered for a moment as he sipped. "And what am I to do there?" "Rule," his father said curtly.

I have climbed these steps so often I know each one by name.

My brother is undoubtedly arrogant," Tyrion Lannister replied. "My father is the soul of avarice, and my sweet sister Cersei lusts for power with every waking breath. I, however, am innocent as a little lamb. Shall I bleat for you?