Kings are falling like leaves this autumn.

Soon comes the cold, and the night that never ends.

We were talking about the prince,' Sansa said, her voice soft as a kiss. Arya knew which prince she meant: Joffrey, of course. The tall, handsome one. Sansa got to sit with him at the feast. Arya had to sit with the little fat one. Naturally.

Minds are like swords, I do fear. The old ones go to rust.

And the mystery knight should defeat all challengers and name the wolf maid the queen of love and beauty.

One voice may speak you false, but in many there is always truth to be found.

I am surrounded by flatterers and fools.