The best calumnies are spiced with truth.

We're all just songs in the end. If we are lucky.

Ser Jaime?" Even in soiled pink satin and torn lace, Brienne looked more like a man in a gown than a proper woman."I am grateful, but...you were well away. Why come back?" A dozen quips came to mind, each crueler than the one before, but Jaime only shrugged. "I dreamed of you," he said.

It was that white cloak that soiled me, not the other way around.

"Come at once," she had written to him. "Help me. Save me. I need you now as I have never needed you before. I love you. I love you. I love you. Come at once"

Kill the boy, Jon Snow. Winter is almost upon us. Kill the boy and let the man be born.

She might have wept then, had not the sky begun to do it for her.