George R.R. Martin

"Men come and go. They lie, or die, or leave you."

"Our enemies leave our bodies for the crows and the wolves. Our friends bury us in secret graves."

"Some woman, no doubt. Most of them are." He favored Jon with a rueful grin. "Remember this, boy. All dwarfs are bastards, yet not all bastards need be dwarfs." And with that he turned and sauntered back into the feast, whistling a tune. When he opened the door, the light from within threw his shadow clear across the yard, and for just a moment Tyrion Lannister stood tall as a king."

"Sometimes," Catelyn said slowly, "the best thing you can do is nothing. When I first came to Winterfell, I was hurt whenever Ned went to the godwood to sit beneath his heart tree. Part of his soul was in that tree, I know, a part I would never share. Yet, without that part, I soon realized, he would not have been Ned. Jeyne, child, you have wed the north, as I did ... and in the north, the winters will come." She tried to smile."Be patient. Be understanding. He loves you and he needs you, and he will come back to you soon enough. This very night, perhaps. Be there when he does. That is all I can tell you."

"The only wolves we got to fear are the ones wear manskin,"

"The lord of light made the sun and moon and stars to light our day, and gave us fire to keep the night at bay."

"I don’t know what message to send to Bran. Help him Tyrion.”“What help could I give him? I am no maester, to ease his pain. I have no spell to give him back his legs.”“You gave me help when I needed it” Jon Snow said.“I gave you nothing,” Tyrion said. “Words.”“Then give your words to Bran too."

"Then a begging brother in a tattered brown robe said a blessing on his sword, and a maid kissed his cheek. 'They are for me,' "Why" He asked Pate. "What am I to them" "A knight who remembered his vows," the smith said."

"Girl or boy, we fight our battles. But the God's let us choose our weapons."

"They were in a long line, an endless line, and as they burst from the wood there was an instant, the smallest part of a heartbeat, when all Catelyn saw was the moonlight on the point of their lance, as if a thousand willowisps were coming down the ridge, wreathed in silver. Then she blinked, and they were only men, rushing down to kill or die."

"A man grows weary of having no lovers but his fingers."

"Shall I prick my prick as well?"

"For men, the answer was always the same and never farther away than the nearest sword. For a woman, a mother, the way was stonier and harder to know."

"They can keep their heaven. When I die, I’d sooner go to Middle Earth."

"Torches just blind you. On a clear night like this, the moon and the stars are enough."

"Wolves and women wed for life."

"No". Tyrion's voice was hoarse. "Sansa is no longer yours to torment. Understand that, monster." Joffrey sneered. "You're the monster, Uncle" "Am I" Tyrion cocked his head. "Perhaps you should speak more softly to me, then. Monsters are dangerous beasts, and just now kinds seem to be dying like flies."

"The ground was so far below him, he could barely make it out through the grey mists that whirled around him, but he could feel how fast he was falling, and he knew what was waiting for him down there. Even in dreams, you could not fall forever. He would wake up in the instant before he hit the ground, he knew. You always woke in the instant before you hit the ground."

"Armageddon,' Sandy said. 'The final battle. The ultimate confrontation between good and evil. That's what armageddon is supposed to be. Right'Hobbins lifted a pale white eyebrow, said nothing.'Which side are we' Sandy demanded. 'Which side are we''That's one you got to work out yourself, friend. This ain't like in Tolkien, is it?"

"And if I'm guilty of having gratuitous sex, then I'm also guilty of having gratuitous violence, and gratuitous feasting, and gratuitous description of clothes, and gratuitous heraldry, because very little of this is necessary to advance the plot. But my philosophy is that plot advancement is not what the experience of reading fiction is about. If all we care about is advancing the plot, why read novels? We can just read Cliffs Notes. A novel for me is an immersive experience where I feel as if I have lived it and that I've tasted the food and experienced the sex and experienced the terror of battle. So I want all of the detail, all of the sensory things—whether it's a good experience, or a bad experience, I want to put the reader through it. To that mind, detail is necessary, showing not telling is necessary, and nothing is gratuitous."