Mothers." The man made a word sound like a curse. "I think birthing does something to your minds. You are all mad.

Not all men were meant to dance with dragons.

He wished he could relieve himself of his doubts and guilts half as easily.

Laughter is poison to fear.

In my dreams, I kill him every night,' Robert admitted. 'A thousand deaths will still be less than he deserves'.

I don't ever want t' leave this cave, Jon Snow. Not ever

When you smell our candles burning, what does it make you think of, my child?" Winterfell, she might have said. I smell snow and smoke and pine needles. I smell the stables. I smell Hodor laughing, and Jon and Robb battling in the yard, and Sansa singing about some stupid lady fair. I smell the crypts where the stone kings sit. I smell hot bread baking. I smell the godswood. I smell my wolf. I smell her fur, almost as if she were still beside me. "I don't smell anything," she said.