Once, I cut off a man's head, but he did not know it until he tried to brush his hair. Then it fell off.

A thousand deaths would still be less than he deserves.

One voyage to the East and a man could live as rich as a lord until the end of his days. When he'd been younger, Davos had dreamed of making such voyages himself. But the years went dancing by like moths around a flame, and somehow the time had never been quite right.

When Maester Aemon heard him sing, he said his voice was honey poured over thunder.

And for the first time in hundreds of years, the night came alive with the music of dragons.

Swift as a deer. Quiet as a shadow. Fear cuts deeper than swords. Quick as a snake. Calm as still water.

She went to the window seat and sat there, sniffling, hating them all, and herself most of all. It was all her fault, everything bad that had happened.