I think my very earliest stories were all intellectual exercises and I was writing from experiences I had never had about characters who were about an inch deep.

Know the men who follow you and let them know you. Don't ask your men to die for a stranger.

My old grandmother always used to say, Summer friends will melt away like summer snows, but winter friends are friends forever.

The gods don’t care about men, no more than kings care about peasants.

Why ask for truth," Ser Barristan said softly, "if you close your ears to it?

I do so hope he plays us 'The Rains of Castamere.' It has been an hour. I've forgotten how it goes -- Olenna Tyrell, the HBIC

She walked fast, to keep ahead of her fear.