When you smell our candles burning, what does it make you think of, my child?" Winterfell, she might have said. I smell snow and smoke and pine needles. I smell the stables. I smell Hodor laughing, and Jon and Robb battling in the yard, and Sansa singing about some stupid lady fair. I smell the crypts where the stone kings sit. I smell hot bread baking. I smell the godswood. I smell my wolf. I smell her fur, almost as if she were still beside me. "I don't smell anything," she said.

Some doors are best left closed.

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

a man who hates music can’t be trusted, I always say.

You are an honest and honorable man...Ofttimes I forget that. I have met so few of them in my life.

Different roads sometimes lead to the same castle.

I want to weep, she thought. I want to be comforted. I'm so tired of being strong. I want to be foolish and frightened for once. Just for a small while, that's all....a day.....an hour.