This world is twisted beyond hope, when lowborn smugglers must vouch for the honor of kings.

Jaime smiled knowingly. Men will read all sorts of things into a knowing smile if you let them.

Dragons old and young, true and false, bright and dark. And you. A small man with a big shadow, snarling in the midst of all.

If half an onion is black with rot, it is a rotten onion. A man is good or he is evil. (Melisandre of Asshai)

What do you like to do?” She scuffed a toe amongst the rushes. “Needlework.” “Very restful, isn’t it?” “Well,” said Arya, “not the way I do it.

We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang.

Clean hands, Sansa. Whatever you do, make certain your hands are clean." ~ Lord Petyr Baelish, Littlefinger