I can see a scene in my head, and when I try to get it down in words on paper, the words are clunky; the scene is not coming across right. So frustrating. And there are days where it keeps flowing. Open the floodgates, and there it is. Pages and pages coming. Where the hell does this all come from? I don't know.

I need to sleep, but fear to dream.

I never finished any of my early stories. They were all beginnings, an endless number of beginnings.

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

People are going to die who don't die in the books, so even the book readers will be unhappy. So everybody better be on their toes. David and D.B. (David Benioff and D.B. Weiss co-creators of 'Game Of Thrones') are even bloodier than I am.

There has never been a slave who did not choose to be a slave. Their choice may be between bondage and death, but the choice is always there.

Jon Snow had dreamed of leading men to glory just as King Daeron had, of growing up to be a conqueror. Now he was a man grown and the Wall was his, yet all he had were doubts. He could not even seem to conquer those.