She narrowed her eyes. “What is our heart’s desire?” “Vengeance.” His voice was soft, as if he were afraid that someone might be listening. “Justice.” Prince Doran pressed the onyx dragon into her palm with his swollen, gouty fingers, and whispered, “Fire and blood.

Children are a battle of a different sort. ... A battle without banners or warhorns but no less fierce.

When you play a game of thrones you win or you die.

I have touched more men that I can count. Some with my lips, more with my axe.

True knights protect the weak.” He snorted. “There are no true knights, no more than there are gods. If you can’t protect yourself, die and get out of the way of those who can. Sharp steel and strong arms rule this world, don’t ever believe any different.” Sansa backed away from him. “You’re awful.” “I’m honest. It’s the world that’s awful.

I have a huge emotional attachment to characters I've created, especially the viewpoint characters.

The more people you love, the weaker you are.