Not all risks lead to ruin.
She was no maid; if she could look on the grey wall’s scenes of slaughter, why should she avert her eyes from the sight of men and women giving pleasure to one another?
I have made kings and unmade them. Sansa Stark is my last chance for honor.
Never ask a baker what went into a pie. Just eat.
Bad and worse and worst makes a beggar’s choice.
The comic book is not the book. the graphic novel is not the novel. The same, of course, is true of films and television. When we move a story from one medium to another, no matter how faithful we attempt to be, some changes are inevitable. Each medium has its own demands, own restrictions, its own way of telling a story.
Her nights were lit by distant stars and the shimmer of moonlight on snow, but every dawn she woke to darkness.
Lonely? Yes. But a solemn, brooding, tragic loneliness that a man hates with a passion – and yet loves so much he craves for more.
It’s not what we do, so much as why we do it.
It is hard to die unmourned.
Not a queen,” said Dany. “A khaleesi.
There’s naught to eat in the dark but flesh.
The smell of food made him realize how ravenous he was. There was hot bread and honey, a bowl of pease porridge, a skewer of roast onions and well-charred meat. He sat by the tray, pulled apart the bread with his hands, and stuffed some into his mouth.
All men are sinners.
What if I am? It seems to me that most men are grey.” “If half of an onion is black with rot, it is a rotten onion.
She bleats like a bloody sheep.
Remain if you will, but know that we shall require your obedience.
A real wolf would finish a wounded animal.
Alyn carried the Stark banner. When she saw him rein in beside Lord Beric to exchange words, it made Sansa feel ever so proud. Alyn was handsomer than Jory had been; he was going to be a knight one day. The Tower of the Hand.
Look at these oafs, Ned. My wife insisted I take these two to squire for me, and they’re worse than useless. Can’t even put a man’s armor on him properly. Squires, they say. I say they’re swineherds dressed up in silk.” Ned only needed a glance to understand the difficulty. “The boys are not at fault,” he told the king. “You’re too fat for your armor, Robert.