How I have yearned for the sound of your sweet voice,” Tyrion sighed to her. “How I have yearned to have that eunuch’s tongue pulled out with hot pincers,” Cersei replied.

I do so hope he plays us 'The Rains of Castamere.' It has been an hour. I've forgotten how it goes -- Olenna Tyrell, the HBIC

Is it so far from madness to wisdom?" - Daenerys Targaryen

And if I'm guilty of having gratuitous sex, then I'm also guilty of having gratuitous violence, and gratuitous feasting, and gratuitous description of clothes, and gratuitous heraldry, because very little of this is necessary to advance the plot. But my philosophy is that plot advancement is not what the experience of reading fiction is about. If all we care about is advancing the plot, why read novels? We can just read Cliffs Notes.

She had put despair and fear aside, as if they were garments she did not choose to wear.

Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover’s kisses, and melted on her cheeks. At the center of the garden, beside the statue of the weeping woman that lay broken and half-buried on the ground, she turned her face up to the sky and closed her eyes. She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams.

I knew that, when writing a book, you're not constrained by a budget. You're not constrained by what you can do, in terms of the special effects technology. You're not limited to any particular running time.