Some battles are won with swords and spears, others with quills and ravens.
If? The word is when.
I need to sleep, but fear to dream.
It is being common-born that is dangerous, when the great lords play their game of thrones.
I have the virtue of being still amongst the living. Some would say that is my only virtue.
The sun will soon be setting, and corpses make poor company by night. These were dark and dangerous men, alive. I doubt that death will have improved them.
Sins may be forgiven. Crimes require punishment.
Fire consumes, but cold preserves.
Too stupid to learn and too stupid to give up.
A sweet face oft hides a sinner’s heart.
It’s really irritating when you open a book, and 10 pages into it you know that the hero you met on page one or two is gonna come through unscathed, because he’s the hero. This is completely unreal, and I don’t like it.
She never forgets a slight, real or imagined. She takes caution for cowardice and dissent for defiance. And she is greedy. Greedy for power, for honour, for love.
Love is the bane of honor, the death of duty.
We know truth for the cruel instrument it is. Beauty is infinitely preferable to truth.
The truth of it is, writers do have peculiar relationships with their characters. They are our children in more senses than one. They are born of our imaginations, carry much of ourselves in them, and embody whatever dreams we dream of immortality.
Start trying to work out who deserves what, and before long you’ll spend the rest of your days weeping for each and every person in the world.
When the end comes, I will meet it raging.
There is an empty place within me where my heart once was.
Nothing someone says before the word ‘but’ really counts.
I just need to rest, that’s all, to rest and sleep some, and maybe die a little.