A hound will die for you, but never lie to you. And he'll look you straight in the face.

Mothers." The man made a word sound like a curse. "I think birthing does something to your minds. You are all mad.

His dagger was out, poised at her throat. “Sing, little bird. Sing for your little life.

The sea is never weary. I must be as tireless.

We're setting up mechanisms where we can kill human beings with drones and missiles where you're sitting at a console and pressing the button. We never have to hear their whimpering, or hear them begging for their mother, or dying in horrible realities around us. I don't know if that's necessarily such a good thing.

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

I don't ever want t' leave this cave, Jon Snow. Not ever