It all goes back and back," Tyrion thought, "to our mothers and fathers and theirs before them. We are puppets dancing on the strings of those who came before us, and one day our own children will take up our strings and dance in our steads.

Nothing burns like the cold. But only for a while. Then it gets inside you and starts to fill you up, and after a while you don't have the strength to fight it.

I love you too, sweet sister. But you're a fool. A beautiful golden fool.

Power resides where men believe it to reside.

All these kings would do a deal better if they would put down their swords and listen to their mothers.

There’s part of me that loves words. But sometimes it feels like you’re trying to drive nails with your shoe.

Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armour yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.