The dream was green, and the green dreams do not lie.
The blood of the First Men still flows in the veins of the Starks, and we hold to the belief that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.
The air smelled of paper and dust and years. Jon plucked a scroll from a bin, blew off the worst of the dust. A corner flaked off between his fingers as he unrolled it. Look, this one is crumbling, he...
The Wall was like that. Sometimes he could almost forget that it was there, the way you forgot about the sky or the earth underfoot, but there were other times when it seemed as if there was nothing e...
The Bear and the Maiden FairA bear there was, a bear, a bear!All black and brown, and covered with hair!The bear! The bear!Oh, come, they said, oh come to the fair!The fair? Said he, but I'm a bear!Al...
That won’t do any good, the crow said. I told you, the answer is flying, not crying. How hard can it be? I’m doing it. The crow took to the air and flapped around Bran’s hand.You have wings, Bran poin...
Thank the Good Master for his patient kindness, Dany said, and tell him that I will think on all I learned here. She gave her arm to Arstan Whitebeard, to lead her back across the plaza to her litter....
Tell me who’s won and I’ll tell you what it means.
Stories wait, my little lord, and when you come back to them, why, there they are,
Spare me your empty little compliments, girl.... and you ser's. I am no knight. I spit on them and their vows.
Sometimes there is no happy choice, Sam, only one less grievous than the others.
Some secrets are safer kept hidden. Some secrets are too dangerous to share with those you love and Trust Ned Stark
Some men want whores on the eve of battle, and some want gods. Jon wondered who felt better afterward.
Some men had faces that cried out for a beard. Ser Clayton’s face cried out for an axe between the eyes.
Some gave me soft words and some blunt, some made excuses, some promises, some only lied. In the end words are just wind.
Sobbing, Sam took another step. This is the last one, the very last, I can't go on, I can't. But his feet moved again. One and then the other. They took a step, and then another, and he thought, They'...
So long as she could kill with a whisper, Arya need not be afraid of anyone . . . but once she used up the last death, she would only be a mouse again.
Sleep on your stone pillow, and let the gulls peck out your eyes while the crabs feast on your flesh. You've feasted on enough of them, you owe them.
Slavery is not the same as rain, she insisted. I have been rained on and I have been sold. It is not the same. No man wants to be owned.
She remembered the godswood, drooping branches heavy with moisture, and the sound of her brother’s laughter as he chased her through piles of damp leaves.