George RR Martin

The eunuch had looked death in the face, so near he might have kissed her on the lips.

Blood games were poor training for protecting kings.

When men are dying every hour, no one looks too hard at one more dead man.

The girl had hoped for fog, but the gods ignored her prayers as gods so often did.

You kill men for the wrongs they have done, not the wrongs that they may do someday.

That is how it is when a man grows as old as Pycelle. Everything see or hear reminds you of something yo saw or heard when you were younger.

At night Tyrion would oft hear her praying. A waste of words. If there are gods to listen, they are monstrous gods who torment us for their sport. Who else would make a world like this, so full of bondage, blood, and pain?

The time to speak of the cold is not when we are standing in it.

“Men are mad and gods are madder,” she told the grass, and the grass murmured its agreement.

Only a fool deserts the winning side.

The gods are blind. And men see only what they wish.

A fair bargain leaves both sides unhappy, I've heard it said.