King Robert is gone. The gods give him rest.” “No,” Ned answered. “He hated rest. The gods give him love and laughter, and the joy of righteous battle.
A large belly requires a large mouth.
Hodor twice as big, twice as strong, and half as clever.
The looters comes with the carrion crows after every battle.
When they write the history of my reign, sweet sister, they will say that it began tonight.
War should not be a game.
Living men had gone south, and cold bones would return. Ned had the truth of it, she thought. His place was at Winterfell, he said as much, but would I hear him? No. Go, I told him, you must be Robert’s Hand, for the good of our House, for the sake of our children... my doing, min, no other...
He could hear Hodor singing “Hodor, hodor, hodor,” quietly to himself.
I have won every battle, yet somehow I’m losing the war.
Jaime, sweetling, I have known you since you were a babe at Joanna’s breast. You smile like Gerion and fight like Tyg and there’s some of Kevan in you, else you would not wear that cloak... but Tyrion is Tywin’s son, not you. I said so once to your father’s face, and he would not speak to me for half a year.
Blood calls to blood.
Jaime cupped his hands to shout.
None of us is ever ready,” he said. “For knighthood?” “For death.
Now, how do you suppose this queen will react when you turn up with your begging bowl in hand and say, ‘Good morrow to you, Auntie. I am your nephew, Aegon, returned from the dead. I’ve been hiding on a poleboat all my life, but now I’ve washed the blue dye from my hair and I’d like a dragon, please... and oh, did I mention, my claim to the Iron Throne is stronger than your own?
Yes,” Ser Rodrik agreed. “I haven’t wanted to die for almost two days now.” He bowed to Catelyn. “My lady.
For the sweet, each guest was served a skull of spun sugar. When the crust was broken, they found sweet custard inside and bits of plum and cherry. Princess.
His passion was a tragedy for all of us, but it was real, and pure, and nothing to be made mock of.
What have I done? she thought, huddled in her empty bed. I have waited so long for him to come back, and I send him away. “He would make a monster of me,” she whispered, “a butcher queen.” But then she thought of Drogon far away, and the dragons in the pit. There is blood on my hands too, and on my heart. We are not so different, Daario and I. We are both monsters.
Clever bird, clever man, clever clever fool,”said Patchface, jangling. “Oh, clever clever clever fool.”He began to sing. “The shadows come to dance, my lord, dance my lord, dance my lord,”he sang, hopping from one foot to the other and back again. “The shadows come to stay, my lord, stay my lord, stay my lord.”He jerked his head with each word, the bells in his antlers sending up a clangor.
Though neither Queen Cersei nor Queen Margaery was amongst them, their presence could be felt poisoning the air, like ghosts at a feast.