George RR Martin

So many vows . . . they make you swear and swear. Defend the king. Obey the king. Keep his secrets. Do his bidding. Your life for his. But obey your father. Love your sister. Protect the innocent. Defend the weak. Respect the gods. Obey the laws. It's too much. No matter what you do, you’re forsaking one vow or the other.

When I was smuggling, I learned that some men believe everything, and some nothing.

Tomorrow's trials concerned her more than yesterday's triumphs.

Whether they believe the story or not, they delight to tell it.

It is better to be seen as cruel than foolish.

There are no men like me. There’s only me.

Smugglers do not sound warhorns and raise banners. When they smell danger, they raise sail and run before the wind.

I hear all sorts of things as a fool that I never heard when I was a knight.

The guests laughed, but it was a joyless laughter, the sort that can turn into sobbing in half a heartbeat.

"Tears," she said scornfully as the woman was led from the hall. "The woman's weapon, my lady mother used to call them. The man's weapon is a sword. And that tells us all you need to know, doesn't it?"

There were hundreds in the water, drowning or burning or doing a little of both.

He distrusts everyone, she reflected, and perhaps for good reason.