George RR Martin

Thirst, hunger, exposure. These were his companions, with him every hour of every day, and he had come to think of them as his friends.

Knights may keep their truces when dealing with other knights, but they are not so careful of their honor when dealing with those whom they deem outlaw.

The Dothraki distrusted the sea and all that moved upon it. Water that a horse could not drink was water they wanted no part of.

The Bastard's backhand caught him square, and his cheekbone shattered with a sickening crunch beneath the lobstered steel. The world vanished in a red roar of pain.

If I die, I die friendless and abandoned. What choice did that leave him, but to live?

Once the cow's been milked there's no squeezing the cream back up her udder.

All men are fools, if truth be told, but the ones in motley are more amusing than the ones with crowns.

Sansa had not heard of Littlefinger doing anything particularly heroic during the battle, but it seemed he was to be rewarded all the same.

In the Red Keep a man did his best to hold his tongue. There were rats in the walls, and little birds who talked too much, and spiders.

They had numbers, but the Night's Watch had discipline, and in battle discipline beats numbers nine times out of ten, his father had once said.

That was the day without a dawn. Slowly the sky brightened around them, but they never saw the sun. Black turned to grey, and colors crept timidly back into the world. The soldier pines were dressed in somber greens, the broadleafs in russets and faded golds already beginning to brown.

"Our honor means no more than our lives, so long as the realm is safe. Are you a man of the Night's Watch?"

"Yes, but–"

"There is no but. You are, or you are not."