Watching is not seeing, dead girl.
This wind’s like to push us off the Wall, and I never did learn the knack of flying.” They.
Lady Melisandre would be lighting her nightfire and chanting, Lord of Light, defend us, for the night is dark and full of terrors. “Winter is coming,” Jon said.
Four hairs on his lip and he thinks he’s a man.
A snail hides in his shell.
On armageddon day,′ Sandy said, ’both armies will think they fight for good. And both of them will be wrong.
He could feel the great weight of all that ice pressing down on him, as if it were about to topple, and somehow Jon knew that if it fell, the world fell with it.
He rubbed his hands together. “This is going to end badly.” “You say that of everything.” “Aye, m’lord. Usually I’m right.
They pay him gold and silver, but he only gives them writing. Are they stupid?
I have seen it in the flames, read of it in ancient prophecy. When the red star bleeds and the darkness gathers, Azor Ahai shall be born again amidst smoke and salt to wake dragons out of stone. Dragonstone is the place of smoke and salt.” Jon.
A foot of shattered antler, tines snapped off, all wet with blood.
Silence is a prince’s friend.
I suppose it’s all in where you’re standing.
He told me the moon was an egg, Khaleesi,’ the Lysene girl said. ‘Once there were two moons in the sky, but one wandered too close to the sun and cracked from the heat. A thousand thousand dragons poured forth, and drank the fire of the sun. That is why dragons breathe flame. One day the older moon will kiss the sun too, and then it will crack and the dragons will return.
Moreo said. He bowed and took his leave of them.
Tall, it was, and gaunt and hard as old bones, with flesh pale as milk. Its armor seemed to change color as it moved; here it was white as new-fallen snow, there black as shadow, everywhere dappled with the deep grey-green of the trees. The patterns ran like moonlight on water with every step it took.
Bran tore his eyes away from the monster. That was when he noticed the bundle in Robb’s arms. He gave a cry of delight and moved closer. The pup was a tiny ball of grey-black fur, its eyes still closed. It nuzzled blindly against Robb’s chest as he cradled it, searching for milk among his leathers, making a sad little whimpery sound. Bran reached out hesitantly. “Go on,” Robb told him. “You can touch him.” Bran.
A sword sword owes his lord the truth.
Robb made no move to detain him. “Forgive him, Mother.” “If you will forgive me.” “I have. I know what it is to love so greatly you can think of nothing else.
Night falls, he thought, and now my war begins.