His chains chinked softly. I seldom fling children from towers to improve their health. Yes, I meant for him to die.

The heart lies and the head plays tricks with us, but the eyes see true.

I bet this is a brothel," she whispered to Gendry. "You don't even know what a brothel is." "I do so," she insisted. "It's like an inn, with girls.

It was that white cloak that soiled me, not the other way around.

Start trying to work out who deserves what, and before long you'll spend the rest of your days weeping for each and every person in the world.

Will holding a secret in your heart make it any less true? If you never tell, never speak of it, will it become only a dream, less than a dream, a nightmare half-remembered? Oh, if only the gods would be so good. (Catelyn)

It's different for every writer. It's not a career for anyone who needs security. It's a career for gamblers. It's a career of ups and downs.