George R.R. Martin Quotes

A man could not always be where he belonged, though.

You little fool. Tears are not a woman's only weapon. You've got another one between your legs, and you'd best learn to use it. You'll find men use their swords freely enough. Both kinds of swords.

I am surrounded by flatterers and fools.

Mother said," mocked the king. "Don't be childish." "We're children," Myrcella declared haughtily. "We're supposed to be childish." The Hound laughed. "She has you there.

I have a hole where my heart should be, she thought, and nowhere else to go.

A thousand deaths would still be less than he deserves.

Sometimes there is no happy choice, Sam, only one less grievous than the others. - Jon Snow

The worst isn't done. The worst is just beginning, and there are no happy endings. (Samuel Tarly)

I beg you both, take heart.'(Varys) 'Whose?' asked Tyrion sourly. He could think of several tempting choices.

Books are dead men talking.

I am only a little lion, child, and I vow, I shall not savage you.

A mad man sees what he sees.

Lady," she whimpered softly, wondering if she would meet her wolf again when she was dead.

I would choose freedom over comfort every time.

First rule, stick them with the pointy end!

I will teach them what it means to put a lion in a cage, Cersei thought.

Words are wind, Brienne told herself. They cannot hurt you. Let them wash over you.

What would a Frey know of honor? - Sir Davos Seaworth

That night the wind was howling almost like a wolf and there were some real wolves off to the west giving it lessons.

He wants you to smile and smell sweet and be his lady love. He wants to hear you recite all your pretty little words the way the septa taught you. He wants you to love him... and fear him.

There are things to be learned even from the dead.

Knights die in battle,” Catelyn reminded her. Brienne looked at her with those blue and beautiful eyes. “As ladies die in childbed. No one sings songs about them.

"Come at once," she had written to him. "Help me. Save me. I need you now as I have never needed you before. I love you. I love you. I love you. Come at once"

In the end words are just wind.

The Gods give with one hand and take with the other.

Small men oft feel a need to prove their courage with unseemly boasts," he declared. "I doubt if he could kill a duck." Tyrion shrugged. "Fetch the duck.

You do not steal from the dragon, oh, no. The dragon remembers.

The old man laid a withered, spotted hand on his shoulder. "It hurts, boy," he said softly. "Oh, yes. Choosing . . . it has always hurt. And always will. I know.

His dagger was out, poised at her throat. “Sing, little bird. Sing for your little life.

Do the dead frighten you?

How much can a crown be worth, when a crow can dine upon a king?

I've lost a hand, a father, a son, a sister, and a lover, and soon enough I will lose a brother. And yet they keep telling me House Lannister won this war.

They were never my pack, not even Hot Pie and Gendry. I was stupid to think so, just a stupid little girl, and no wolf at all.

Do dead man dream? The dead themselves are silent on the matter

Folly and desperation are ofttimes hard to tell apart.

Wisdom oft comes from the mouth of babes.

A long summer always meant a long winter to come.

This is the bravo’s dance, the water dance, swift and sudden. All men are made of water, do you know this? When you pierce them, the water leaks out and they die.

Jon shrugged. 'Girls get the arms but not the swords. Bastards get the swords but not the arms. I did not make the rules, little sister.

Just where do you think you are going, Arya?' the septa demanded. Arya glared at her. 'I have to go shoe a horse,' she said sweetly taking a brief satisfaction in the shock on the septa's face.

Tell Robb that I'm going to command the Night's Watch and keep him safe, so he might as well take up needlework with the girls and have Mikken melt down his sword for horseshoes. - Jon Snow

And all was black and still, and black and cold, and black and dead, and black.

There was an agelessness about him, a stillness; on Roose Bolton's face, rage and joy looked much the same.

Aemon’s blind white eyes came open. “Egg?” he said, as the rain streamed down his cheeks. “Egg, I dreamed that I was old.

she would die as she had lived, with an axe in her hand and a laugh upon her lips.

He pushed away from her and raised his arm, forcing his stump into her face. "A Hand without a hand? A bad jape, sister. Don't ask me to rule.

If H. P. Lovecraft and H. L. Mencken had ever collaborated, they might have come up with something like The Edge of Reason. This one will delight thinkers-and outrage true believers-of all stripes.

You know, I've always considered women to be people.

As much as I love historical fiction, my problem with historical fiction is that you always know what's going to happen.

Dragons old and young, true and false, bright and dark. And you. A small man with a big shadow, snarling in the midst of all.