The man who never reads lives only one.
Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same.
I have always been a dark writer.
One of your northmen hit me with a morningstar during the battle on the Green Fork. I escaped him by falling off my horse. (Tyrion)
Fire consumes, but cold preserves.
His eyes were open wounds beneath his heavy brows, a blue as dark as the sea by night.