Does he think to scare me? Arya kissed him where his nose should be and plucked the grave worm from his eye to eat it, but it melted like a shadow in her hand. The yellow skull was melting too, and the kindliest old man that she had ever seen was smiling down on her. "No one has ever tried to eat my worm before," he said. "Are you hungry, child?" Yes, she thought, but not for food.

Ned was clad in a white linen doublet with the direwolf of Stark on the breast; his black wool cloak was fastened at the collar by his silver hand of office. Black and white and grey, all the shades of truth.

It was astonishing to see how angry Cersei could wax over accusations she knew perfectly well to be true.

Different roads sometimes lead to the same castle.

A good act does not wash out the bad, nor a bad act the good. Each should have its own reward.

Tyrion: My gentle sister seems to have mistaken me for Ned Stark. Bronn: I hear he was taller. Tyrion: Not after Joff took off his head.

Words are wind, Brienne told herself. They cannot hurt you. Let them wash over you.