Quotes from George R.R. Martin

Some nights she drowsed, but never for more than an hour. One day, Melisandre prayed, she would not sleep at all. One day she would be free of dreams.

Was there ever a man as beautiful or as vile as this one?

Even brave men blind themselves sometimes, when they are afraid to see,

Words are wind, and the wind that blows exiles across the narrow sea seldom blows them back.

The Dothraki named the comet shierak qiya, the Bleeding Star.

men who pay in promises should have at least the sense to promise more.

place or that place. The rest of the time, they ate in his solar,

Six of the young cupbearers were playing some child's game as he entered, sitting in a circle on the floor as they took turns spinning a dagger. When it wobbled to a stop they cut a lock of hair off whichever of them the blade was pointing at.

Jon relished the stories they were telling, tales of battle and bedding and the hunt. He

Destriers began to perish of exhaustion and exposure. "What is a knight without a horse?" men riddled. "A snowman with a sword.

A siege is a deadly dull.

Il fango ti può nutrire, mentre il fuoco ti ridurrà in cenere, ma i folli, i bambini e le fanciulle scelgono sempre il fuoco. Mud would nourish you, where fire would only consume you, but fools and children and young girls would choose fire every time.

All his life Tyrion had prided himself on his cunning, the only gift the gods had seen fit to give him, and yet this seven-times-damned she-wolf Catelyn Stark had outwitted him at every turn. The

Choose. Fly or die.

There is no wine so sweet as wine taken from a foe.

In the field, he would sleep in the saddle oft as not, he claimed, so as to be well rested should he come upon a battle. Sun or storm, it made no matter. "A warrior who cannot sleep soon has no strength to fight,

Sure, kid. Look, there's a very old saying in my family: 'Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is another wizard fucking with you.

They do not expect the north to believe their lies, not truly, but they think we must pretend to believe or die.

meant an even longer winter, but the maester saw no reason to frighten the child with such tales. Patchface rang his bells. "It is always summer under the sea," he intoned. "The merwives wear nennymoans in their hair and weave gowns of silver seaweed. I know,

What do I have? A life to live? Work to do? Children to raise, lands to rule, a woman to love? "You have nothing," finished Magister Illyrio, "but we can change that.

Use that ugly thing you keep inside your helm.

At the least, they will say … this last thing … this I did right. You won't fail me. You'll rule now. You'll hate it, worse than I did … but you'll do well.

I am the ghost in Harrenhal.

Then I am not a dwarf. My father will rejoice to hear it.