Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.

Nobody likes cravens,” he said uncomfortably. “I wish we hadn’t helped him. What if they think we’re craven too?” "You're too stupid to be craven,” Pyp told him. “I am not,” Grenn said. “Yes you are. If a bear attacked you in the woods, you’d be too stupid to run away.” “I would not,” Grenn insisted. “I’d run away faster than you.” He stopped suddenly, scowling when he saw Pyp’s grin and realized what he’d just said.

Start with short stories. After all, if you were taking up rock climbing, you wouldn't start with Mount Everest. So if you're starting fantasy, don't start with a nine-book series.

None of us is ever ready,' he (Ned) said. 'For knighthood?' 'For death.

Nobody is a villain in their own story. We're all the heroes of our own stories.

That night the wind was howling almost like a wolf and there were some real wolves off to the west giving it lessons.

For herself, she wanted sleet and ice, howling winds, thunder to shake the very stones of the Red Keep. She wanted a storm to match her rage.