Quotes from George R.R. Martin

She was drunk on the magic of the night, giddy with glamour, swept away by beauties she had dreamt of all her life and never dared hope to know.

The music from the castles was louder here. The sound of the drums and horns rolled across the camp. The musicians in the nearer castle were playing a different song than the ones in the castle on the far bank, though, so it sounded more like a battle than a song. "They're not very good," Arya observed.

The mountain is your mother," Stonesnake had told him during an easier climb a few days past. "Cling to her, press yourself against her teats, and she won't drop you.

The pain was so huge he felt small and weak and helpless inside it,

Equity is often difficult to judge, and still more difficult to achieve,

They betrayed me. But they saved me. But they lied. - Daenerys

Flies are the dead man's revenge.

Forbid her anything and it became her heart's desire.

Every child knows its mother, Dany thought. When the seas go dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves.

Grieve for your friend, but never blame yourself.

My mind is my weapon. My brother has his sword, King Robert has his warhammer, and I have my mind … and a mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone, if it is to keep its edge.

It was hard work to rule a kingdom, much less seven of them.

We should start back," Gared urged as the woods began to grow dark around them. "The wildlings are dead." "Do the dead frighten you?" Ser Waymar Royce asked with just the hint of a smile.

I do. My time is done." Jaqen passed a hand down his face from forehead to chin, and where it went he changed. His cheeks grew fuller, his eyes closer; his nose hooked, a scar appeared on his right cheek where no scar had been before. And when he shook his head, his long straight hair, half red and half white, dissolved away to reveal a cap of tight black curls.

The very air seemed grey and green and still.

Where do whores go?

When nine-and-ninety hostages had shuffled by them to pass beneath the Wall, Tormund Giantsbane produced the last one. "My son Dryn. You'll see he's well taken care of, crow, or I'll cook your black liver up and eat it.

Theon swept his cloak off its peg and over his shoulders. "Fathers are like that," he admitted as he pinned the folds with a silver clasp. "Tell him he should be pleased. As many times as I've fucked you, you're likely with child. It's not every man who has the honor of raising a king's bastard.

A félelem mélyebbre hatol, mint a penge.

A man does not fly like a bird, but one foot moves and then another and one day a man is there, and a king dies.

What fire joins none man can put aside,

Many promised him their voices: Fralegg the Strong, clever Alvyn Sharp, humpbacked Hotho Harlaw. Hotho offered him a daughter for his queen. "I have no luck with wives," Victarion told him. His first wife died in childbed, giving him a stillborn daughter. His second had been stricken by a pox. And his third … "A king must have an heir," Hotho insisted. "The Crow's Eye brings three sons to show before the kingsmoot." "Bastards

He could feel the eyes of the dead. They were all listening, he knew. And winter was coming.

The biggest toms would seldom win, she noticed; oft as not, the prize went to some smaller, quicker animal, thin and mean and hungry.