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

His eyes were open wounds beneath his heavy brows, a blue as dark as the sea by night.

We were king’s men, knights, and heroes . . . but some knights are dark and full of terror, my lady. War makes monsters of us all.” “Are you saying you are monsters?” “I am saying we are human. You are not the only one with wounds, Lady Brienne

There are ghosts everywhere," Ser Jorah said softly. "We carry them with us wherever we go.

Sweet smells are sometimes used to cover foul ones.

Once you’ve accepted your flaws, no one can use them against you.

Nobody likes cravens,” he said uncomfortably. “I wish we hadn’t helped him. What if they think we’re craven too?” "You're too stupid to be craven,” Pyp told him. “I am not,” Grenn said. “Yes you are. If a bear attacked you in the woods, you’d be too stupid to run away.” “I would not,” Grenn insisted. “I’d run away faster than you.” He stopped suddenly, scowling when he saw Pyp’s grin and realized what he’d just said.