The odd thing about being a writer is you do tend to lose yourself in your books. Sometimes it seems like real life is flickering by and you're hardly a part of it. You remember the events in your books better than you remember the events that actually took place when you were writing them.

They will not love me, you say? When have they ever loved me? How can I lose something I have never owned? - Stannis

The eunuch had looked death in the face, so near he might have kissed her on the lips.

Every flight begins with a fall.

The women are the strong ones, truly.

I want to weep, she thought. I want to be comforted. I'm so tired of being strong. I want to be foolish and frightened for once. Just for a small while, that's all....a day.....an hour.

When treating with liars, even an honest man must lie.