What is honor compared to a woman's love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms . . . or the memory of a brother's smile? Wind and words. Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.

Historical fiction is not history. You're blending real events and actual historical personages with characters of your own creation.

A Lannister always pays his debts.

a few days ago she had been wandering around with a swatch of black silk tied over her eyes. Syrio was teaching her to see with her ears and her nose and her skin, she told him. Before that, he had her doing spinds and back flips. "Arya, are you certain you want to persist in this?" She nodded. "Tomorrow we're going to catch cats." "Cats." Ned sighed.

The true horrors of human history derive not from orcs and Dark Lords, but from ourselves.

There is a savage beast in every man, and when you hand that man a sword or spear and send him forth to war, the beast stirs.

Mothers." The man made a word sound like a curse. "I think birthing does something to your minds. You are all mad.