The gods made the earth for all men t' share. Only when the kings come with their crowns and steel swords, they claimed it was all theirs. "My trees," they said, "you can't eat them apples. My stream, you can't fish here. My wood, you're not t' hunt. My earth, my water, my castle, my daughter, keep your hands away or I'll chop 'em off, but maybe if you kneel t' me I'll let you have a sniff." You call us thieves, but at least a thief has t' be brave and clever and quick. A kneeler only has t' kneel.

There is only one god and his name is Death. And there is only one thing we say to Death: “Not today.

You can't hammer tin into iron, no matter how hard you beat it, but that doesn't mean it's useless.

And I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples and bastards and broken things.

And what lesson can we draw from Volantene history? If you want to conquer the world, you best have dragons.

There is magic in my universe, but it's pretty low magic compared to other fantasies.

Jon shrugged. 'Girls get the arms but not the swords. Bastards get the swords but not the arms. I did not make the rules, little sister.