Inside the room, a man and a woman were wrestling. They were both naked.

Give me honorable enemies rather than ambitious ones, and I'll sleep more easily by night.

Only lies offend me, never honest counsel.

A lord may love the men that he commands, but he cannot be a friend to them. One day he may need to sit in judgement on them, or send them forth to die.

Pyp had stabbed a turnip with his knife. "The night is dark and full of turnips," he announced in a solemn voice. "Let us all pray for venison, my children, with some onions and a bit of tasty gravy.

He never wanted love, though. You cannot eat love, nor buy a horse with it, nor warm your halls on a cold night.

Why should death make a man truthful, or even clever? The dead are likely dull fellows, full of tedious complaints - the ground's too cold, my gravestone should be larger, why does he get more worms than I do.