The morning air was dark with the smoke of burning gods.
What would a Frey know of honor? - Sir Davos Seaworth
Love is the bane of honor, the death of duty.
Only the soldier pines and sentinels still showed green; the broadleaf trees had donned mantles of russet and gold, or else uncloaked themselves to scratch against the sky with branches brown and bare.
A Lannister always pays his debts.
You do not steal from the dragon, oh, no. The dragon remembers.