Armageddon,' Sandy said. 'The final battle. The ultimate confrontation between good and evil. That's what armageddon is supposed to be. Right?'Hobbins lifted a pale white eyebrow, said nothing.'Which...
Thee'th not to be touched, the goat screamed, spraying spittle all over Zollo. Thee hath to be a maid, you foolth! Thee'th worth a bag of thapphireth!
Why give a horse to a man who cannot ride?
Valor is a poor substitute for numbers
Up in the hills we say that autumn kisses you, but winter fucks you hard.
There is no shame in loving.
There are worse ways to die than warm and drunk.
The truth will set us free. But freedom is cold and empty and frightening, and lies can often be warm and beautiful.
The pale pink light of dawn sparkled on branch and leaf and stone. Every blade of grass was carved from emerald, every drip of water turned to diamond. Flowers and mushrooms alike wore coats of glass....
The man is as useless as nipples on a breastplate.
The day my father came to claim me, my mother did not wish for me to go. ‘She is a girl,' she said, ‘and I do not think that she is yours. I had a thousand other men.' He tossed his spear at my feet a...
Ser Rodrik groused. His opinion of singers was well known; music was a lovely thing for girls, but he could not comprehend why any healthy boy would fill his hand with a harp when he might have had a...
Ser Osmund Strong was the king’s fourth Hand. His first had been Lord Orys Baratheon, his bastard half-brother and companion of his youth, but Lord Orys was taken captive during the Dornish War and su...
No Queen has clean hands.
Never do what they expect,
Ned looked down gravely at the sword in his hands. This is no toy for children, least of all for a girl. What would Septa Mordane say if she knew you were playing with swords?I wasn’t playing, Arya in...
Men of honor will do things for their children that they would never consider doing for themselves.
Lonely? Yes. But a solemn, brooding, tragic loneliness that a man hates with a passion—and yet loves so much he craves for more.
Life is not a song, sweetling.Someday you may learn that, to your sorrow.
Jaime, Brienne whispered, so faintly he thought he was dreaming it. Jaime, what are you doing?Dying, he whispered back.No, she said, no, you must live.He wanted to laugh. Stop telling me what to do, w...