There are ghosts everywhere," Ser Jorah said softly. "We carry them with us wherever we go.

Little redcape," he snarled, "when next you bare steel on Shagga son of Dolf, I will chop off your manhood and roast it in the fire." "What, no goats?" Tyrion said, taking a bite of his cheese.

What could he have done, one man against so many?" He could have tried, Brienne thought.

The truth is all around you, plain to behold. The night is dark and full of terrors, the day bright and beautiful and full of hope. One is black, the other white. There is ice and there is fire. Hate and love. Bitter and sweet. Male and female. Pain and pleasure. Winter and summer. Evil and good. Death and life. Everywhere, opposites.

Catelyn had never liked this godswood. She had been born a Tully, at Riverrun far to the south, on the Red Fork of the Trident. The godswood there was a garden, bright and airy, where tall redwoods spread dappled shadows across tinkling streams, birds sang from hidden nests, and the air was spicy with the scent of flowers.

Explain to me why it is more noble to kill ten thousand men in battle than a dozen at dinner.

You promised him vengeance as well.' 'I promised him justice.' 'Call it what you will. It still comes down to blood." - Tywin & Tyrion