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.

I have the virtue of being still amongst the living. Some would say that is my only virtue.

For men, the answer was always the same and never farther away than the nearest sword. For a woman, a mother, the way was stonier and harder to know.

I have some other novels I want to write. I have a lot of short stories - I love the short story.

In the end words are just wind.

Nothing someone says before the word 'but' really counts.

The women are the strong ones, truly.