If he must be alone, he would make solitude his armor.

If ice can burn, then love and hate can mate.

He did not know which was more painful, the waking or the sleeping. When he slept, he dreamed: dark disturbing dreams of blood and broken promises. When he woke, there was nothing to do but think, and his waking thoughts were worse than nightmares.

And I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples and bastards and broken things.

Writing is like sausage making in my view; you'll all be happier in the end if you just eat the final product without knowing what's gone into it.

I prefer my history dead. Dead history is writ in ink, the living sort in blood.

Ruling is hard. This was maybe my answer to Tolkien, whom, as much as I admire him, I do quibble with. Lord of the Rings had a very medieval philosophy: that if the king was a good man, the land would prosper. We look at real history and it's not that simple... Real-life kings had real-life problems to deal with... My people who are trying to rule don't have an easy time of it. Just having good intentions doesn't make you a wise king.