The Lord of Winterfell would always be a Stark

And I tell you truly, Danaerys, there is no man in all the world who will ever be half so true to you as me.

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.

Men have scars, women mysteries.

Robb: Uncle Benjen said to send you to the stables if I saw you. Jon: I have one more farewell to make. Robb: Then I haven't seen you.

My biggest dream was to ruin the lives of my readers and crush their souls... And I really think that worked out pretty well for me.

Shattered legs may heal in time, but some betrayals fester and poison the soul.