A Game of Thrones: The Illustrated Edition

Anger flashed in her brother’s lilac eyes. “Do you take me for a fool?”

The magister bowed slightly. “I take you for a king. Kings lack the caution of common men.”

Never draw your sword unless you mean to use it.

A craven can be as brave as any man, when there is nothing to fear. And we all do our duty, when there is no cost to it. How easy it seems then, to walk the path of honor. Yet soon or late in every man’s life comes a day when it is not easy, a day when he must choose.

Laughter is poison to fear.

Generations of capering fools in motley have won me the right to dress badly and say any damn thing that comes into my head.

It is no good hammering your sword into a plowshare if you must forge it again on the morrow.

Wherever you have a camp, you are certain to have camp followers.

The words gave her a chill, as they always did. The Stark words. Every noble house had its words. Family mottoes, touchstones, prayers of sorts, they boasted of honor and glory, promised loyalty and truth, swore faith and courage. All but the Starks. Winter is coming, said the Stark words.

"They hate me because I'm better than they are" "No. They hate you because you act like you're better than they are."

Wizards die the same as other men, once you cut their heads off.

There is no creature on earth half so terrifying as a truly just man.

Let them see that their words can cut you, and you'll never be free of the mockery. If they want to give you a name, take it, make it your own. Then they can't hurt you with it anymore.

You wear your honor like a suit of armor, Stark. You think it keeps you safe, but all it does is weigh you down and make it hard for you to move.

My mind is my weapon. My brother has his sword, King Robert has his warhammer, and I have my mind...And a mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone, if it is to keep its edge.

Some commands are more easily given than obeyed.

I ask you, Ned, what good is it to wear a crown? The gods mock the prayers of kings and cowherds alike.

A ruler who hides behind paid executioners soon forgets what death is.

Tell me, Lord Eddard ... why is it always the innocents who suffer most, when you high lords play your game of thrones?

Give me honorable enemies rather than ambitious ones, and I'll sleep more easily by night.

"Ah, but when the queen proclaims one king and the Hand another, whose peace do they protect?" Lord Petyr flicked at the dagger with his finger, setting it spinning in place. When at last it slowed to a stop, the blade pointed at Littlefinger. "Why, there's your answer. They follow the man who pays them."

In life, the monsters win.

A man who fights for coin is loyal only to his purse.

Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.

"What strange fit of madness led you to tell the queen that you had learned the secret of Joffrey's birth?"

"The madness of mercy."

When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle ground.

Is it so far from madness to wisdom?

I swear to you, I was never so alive as when I was winning this throne, or so dead as now that I've won it.

He was always clever, even as a boy, but it is one thing to be clever and another to be wise.

“The common people pray for rain, healthy children, and a summer that never ends,” Ser Jorah told her. “It is no matter to them if the high lords play their game of thrones, so long as they are left in peace.” He gave a shrug. “They never are.”

For fifteen years I protected him from his enemies, but I could not protect him from his friends.

A true man does what he will, not what he must.

If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die.

Death is so terribly final, while life is full of possibilities.

Jon could not find it in him to pray to any gods, old or new. If they were real, he thought, they were as cruel and implacable as winter.

"Know the men who follow you, and let them know you. Don't ask your men to die for a stranger."

“You are an honest and honorable man, Lord Eddard. Ofttimes I forget that. I have met so few of them in my life.” He glanced around the cell. “When I see what honesty and honor have won you, I understand why.”

“We should start back,” Gared urged as the woods began to grow dark around them. “The wildlings are dead.”

"Can a man still be brave if he’s afraid?"

"That is the only time a man can be brave."

The morning had dawned clear and cold, with a crispness that hinted at the end of summer.