He pushed himself to his feet. “Don’t lie, Sansa. I am malformed, scarred, and small, but…” she could see him groping “…abed, when the candles are blown out, I am made no worse than other men. In the dark, I am the Knight of Flowers.” He took a draught of wine. “I am generous. Loyal to those who are loyal to me. I’ve proven I’m no craven. And I am cleverer than most, surely wits count for something. I can even be kind. Kindness is not a habit with us Lannisters, I fear, but I know I have some somewhere. I could be… I could be good to you.

Kill the boy, Jon Snow. Winter is almost upon us. Kill the boy and let the man be born.

Robert was never the same after he put on that crown. Some men are like swords, made for fighting. Hang them up and they go to rust.

When treating with liars, even an honest man must lie.

The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.

I heard of a man who had a razor made of Valyrian steel. He cut his head off trying to shave.

I wanted to write a big novel, something epic in scale.