Some commands are more easily given than obeyed.
I read bells. Not the sound of bells, no, no, but the feel of bells, the emotion of bells, the bright clanging joy, the hooting-shouting-ringing loudness, the song of the Joined, the togetherness and the sharing of it all.
None taken, Ser Jaremy. My father is very fond of spiked heads, especially those of people who have annoyed him in some fashion. And a face as noble as yours, well, no doubt he saw you decorating the city wall above King’s Gate. I think you would have looked very striking up there.
Who better to raise Prince Rhaegar’s infant son than Prince Rhaegar’s dear friend Jon Connington, once Lord of Griffin’s Roost and Hand of the King?
Death comes out of the dragon’s mouth.
We came here to be free of Old Valyria, and your Targaryens are Valyrian to the bone.
His hands were cold as ice, but he saved us from the dead men, him and his ravens, and he brought us here on his elk.” “His elk?” said Bran, wonderstruck. “His elk?” said Meera, startled. “His ravens?” said Jojen. “Hodor?” said Hodor.
He rode through the streets of the city, down from his hill on high, O’er the wynds and the steps and the cobbles, he rode to a woman’s sigh. For she was his secret treasure, she was his shame and his bliss. And a chain and a keep are nothing, compared to a woman’s kiss.
They would sooner be dicing, drinking, and flicking, I don’t doubt, but Lord Randyll believes in putting idle men to work.
Kings have no friends, just subjects and enemies.
And he spoke very slowly, in a voice that was also like fog, that drifted and curled and hid things, and you knew that there were mysteries there and things brooding just out of sight and far-off lights that you would never reach.
Shall I ask again?” wondered Xaro. “No, I know that smile. It is a cruel queen who dices with men’s hearts. Humble merchants like myself are no more than stones beneath your jeweled sandals.” A single tear ran slowly down his pale white cheek.
A true knight is cleanly as well as godly.
The High Septon was the true king of Westeros, in all but name.
Then Lord Eddard is a man in ten thousand. Most of us are not so strong. What is honor compared to a woman’s love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms... Or the memory of a brother’s smile? Wind and words. Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.
You’ll be sewing all through winter. When the spring thaw comes, they will find your body with a needle still locked tight between your frozen fingers.” Arya didn’t think it was funny. “I hate needlework!” she said with passion. “It’s not fair!
If he doesn’t give her back, chop off his manhood and feed it to the goats,” Tyrion promised. “Provided you can find some.
Snow, the boy is called,” Pycelle said unhelpfully. “I glimpsed him once at Winterfell,” the queen said, “though the Starks did their best to hide him. He looks very like his father.” Her husband’s by-blows had his look as well, though at least Robert had the grace to keep them out of sight.
We must declare this Snow a traitor and a rebel,” agreed Ser Harys Swyft. “The black brothers must remove him.” Grand Maester Pycelle nodded ponderously. “I propose that we inform Castle Black that no more men will be sent to them until such time as Snow is gone.
My brothers have my measure when it comes to fighting and dancing and thinking and reading books, but none of them is half my equal at lying insensible in the mud.