The north remembers, Lord Davos. The north remembers, and the mummer’s farce is almost done. My son is home.
The madness of mercy, Ned admitted. Ah, said Varys. To be sure. You are an honest and honorable man, Lord Eddard. Ofttimes I forget that. I have met so few of them in my life. He glanced around the ce...
The little man gave the big one a look. One of his eyes was green, one was black, and both were cool.
The king is my son! Cersei rose to her feet. Aye, her uncle said, and from what I saw of Joffrey, you are as unfit a mother as you are a ruler.
The godswife thought her a child, but children grow, and children learn.
The gods mock the prayers of kings and cowherds alike.
The faithful dog is kicked, and no matter how the spider weaves, he is never loved.
The best lies contain within them nuggets of truth, enough to give a listener pause.
The best fantasy is written in the language of dreams. It is alive as dreams are alive, more real than real ... for a moment at least ... that long magic moment before we wake. Fantasy is silver and s...
The Red Sword of Heroes looks a proper mess
The Marquis de Carabas always had a plan, and he always had a fallback plan; and beneath these plans he always had a real plan, one that he would not even let himself know about, for when the original...
That was the way of this cold world, where men fished the sea and dug in the ground and died, whilst women brought forth short-lived children from beds of blood and pain.
That man said he’d take your head too.Well, as to that, Yoren said, if he can get it off my shoulders, he’s welcome to it.
Such a happy sound, it makes me want to scoop out someone’s eyeballs with a spoon.
Small wonder he refused to marry. Why buy a cow when there were udders all around begging to be milked?
Si le cortas la lengua a un hombre, no demuestras que estuviera mintiendo: demuestras que no quieres que el mundo oiga lo que pueda decir.
She yearned to see her mother again, and Robb and Bran and Rickon… but it was Jon Snow she thought of most. She wished somehow they could come to the Wall before Winterfell, so Jon might muss up her h...
She stood on the end of the dock, pale and goosefleshed and shivering in the fog. In her hand, Needle seemed to whisper to her. Stick them with the pointy end, it said, and, don’t tell Sansa! Mikken’s...
She should be more frightened herself, she knew. She was only ten, a skinny girl on a stolen horse with a dark forest ahead of her and men behind who would gladly cut off her feet. Yet somehow she fel...
She had killed him with a whisper, and she would kill two more before she was through. I’m the ghost in Harrenhal, she thought. And that night, there was one less name to hate.