I have an instinctual distrust of conventional happy endings.

Dark wings, dark words.

Robert was the true steel. Stannis is pure iron, black and hard and strong, yes, but brittle, the way iron gets. He'll break before he bends. And Renly, that one, he's copper, bright and shiny, pretty to look at but not worth all that much at the end of the day.

I never finished any of my early stories. They were all beginnings, an endless number of beginnings.

Shagga son of Dolf likes this not. Shagga will go with the boyman, and if the boyman lies, Shagga will chop off his manhood-" "-and feed it to the goats, yes," Tyrion said wearily.

Kill me, and be cursed. You are no king of mine.

If I took it away, no doubt I'd find a morningstar hidden under your pillow within a fortnight. Try not to stab your sister, whatever the provocation.