When we speak of the morrow nothing is ever certain.
Oh, he was clever. He did not simply collect the gold and lock it in a treasure vault, no. He paid the king’s debts in promises, and put the king’s gold to work. He bought wagons, shops, ships, houses. He bought grain when it was plentiful and sold bread when it was scarce. He bought wool from the north and linen from the south and lace from Lys, stored it, moved it, dyed it, sold it. The golden dragons bred and multiplied, and Littlefinger lent them out and brought them home with hatchlings.
“Searching is not finding.”
“Paint stripes on a toad, he does not become a tiger.”
“Good. The longer Cersei waits, the angrier she’ll become, and anger makes her stupid. I much prefer angry and stupid to composed and cunning.”
Is there any creature on earth as unfortunate as an ugly woman?
They are boys drunk on song and story, and like all boys, they think themselves immortal.
“Only a fool humbles himself when the world is so full of men eager to do that job for him.”
Asha smiled like a cat in cream. “I’ve always wanted a castle,” she said sweetly.
“Then take one.”
“The crow calls the raven black”
“Summon Bronn, and then run down to the stables and have two horses saddled.”
The squire’s eyes were cloudy with sleep. “Horses.”
“Those big brown animals that love apples, I’m sure you’ve seen them. Four legs and a tail. But Bronn first.”
Perhaps that is the secret. It is not what we do, so much as why we do it.
“Sleep is good,” he said. “And books are better.”
“Realm’s got more kings than a castle’s got rats.”
“Kings have no friends,” Stannis said bluntly, “only subjects and enemies.”
“If you step in a nest of snakes, does it matter which one bites you first?”
“Sorcery is the sauce fools spoon over failure to hide the flavor of their own incompetence.
“Tell me, my lady, do direwolves vote on who should lead the pack?” Brienne
The Old Bear was particular about his hot spiced wine. So much cinnamon and so much nutmeg and so much honey, not a drop more. Raisins and nuts and dried berries, but no lemon, that was the rankest sort of southron heresy—which was queer, since he always took lemon in his morning beer. The drink must be hot to warm a man properly, the Lord Commander insisted, but the wine must never be allowed to come to a boil.
You wield words as skillfully as Jaime wields a sword.
Tomorrow’s trials concerned her more than yesterday’s triumphs.
The gods don’t care about men, no more than kings care about peasants.”
Catelyn knew that Edmure had a soft heart; sometimes she thought his head was even softer. She loved him for it, yet still...
The dragons are all the difference.
A man who changes kings and gods the way I change my boots.
“A good act does not wash out the bad, nor a bad act the good. Each should have its own reward. You were a hero and a smuggler.”
The mules love the sound of their own braying, why else? And I need them to haul my cart.
Some lights cast more than one shadow. Stand before the nightfire and you’ll see for yourself. The flames shift and dance, never still. The shadows grow tall and short, and every man casts a dozen. Some are fainter than others, that’s all. Well, men cast their shadows across the future as well. One shadow or many, Melisandre sees them all.”
“I believe in steel swords, gold coins, and men’s wits,” said Tyrion.
How can I do my duty if I do not know where it lies?
“Knights die in battle”
“Children are a battle of a different sort.” Catelyn started across the yard. “A battle without banners or warhorns, but no less fierce. Carrying a child, bringing it into the world . . . your mother will have told you of the pain . . .”
“As hard as birth can be, Brienne, what comes after is even harder. At times I feel as though I am being torn apart. Would that there were five of me, one for each child, so I might keep them all safe.”
A woman’s life is nine parts mess to one part magic, you’ll learn that soon enough . . . and the parts that look like magic often turn out to be messiest of all.”
Рeople often claim to hunger for truth, but seldom like the taste when it’s served up.
Smugglers do not sound warhorns and raise banners. When they smell danger, they raise sail and run before the wind.
“When we were little, Jaime and I were so much alike that even our lord father could not tell us apart. Sometimes as a lark we would dress in each other’s clothes and spend a whole day each as the other. Yet even so, when Jaime was given his first sword, there was none for me. ‘What do I get?’ I remember asking. We were so much alike, I could never understand why they treated us so differently . Jaime learned to fight with sword and lance and mace, while I was taught to smile and sing and please. He was heir to Casterly Rock, while I was to be sold to some stranger like a horse, to be ridden whenever my new owner liked, beaten whenever he liked, and cast aside in time for a younger filly. Jaime’s lot was to be glory and power, while mine was birth and moonblood.”
“When it comes to swords, a queen is only a woman after all.”
Some he killed, some he wounded, and some went away, but always there were more.