The distinction between literary and genre fiction is stupid and pernicious. It dates back to a feud between Robert Louis Stevenson and Henry James. James won, and it split literature into two streams. But it's a totally false dichotomy.

It's a fool boy who mocks a giant, and a mad world when a cripple has to defend him.

When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives.

In the world as I have seen it, no man grows rich by kindness.

I am the blood of the dragon. Do not presume to teach me lessons.

Jon Snow had dreamed of leading men to glory just as King Daeron had, of growing up to be a conqueror. Now he was a man grown and the Wall was his, yet all he had were doubts. He could not even seem to conquer those.

The world is full of cravens who pretended to be heroes.