Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell's grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan's stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow's smile. He used to mess my hair and call me "little sister," she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes.
George R. R. MartinWe were kingโs men, knights, and heroes . . . but some knights are dark and full of terror, my lady. War makes monsters of us all.โ โAre you saying you are monsters?โ โI am saying we are human. You are not the only one with wounds, Lady Brienne
George R. R. MartinAnd pray that he is the man I think he is, he finished silently, and not the man I fear he has become.
George R. R. MartinI like dogs better than knights. A hound will die for you, but never lie to you. And he'll look you straight in the face. He cupped her under the jaw, raising her chin, his fingers pinchingher painfully. And that's more than little birds can do, isn't it? I never got my song.
George R. R. Martin