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Some had been heroes, some weaklings, knaves, or cravens. Most were only men—quicker and stronger than most, more skilled with sword and shield, but still prey to pride, ambition, lust, love, anger, jealousy, greed for gold, hunger for power, and all the other failings that afflicted lesser mortals. The best of them overcame their flaws, did their duty, and died with their swords in their hands. The worst...

The worst were those who played the game of thrones.

Past a certain point, all the dates grow hazy and confused, and the clarity of history becomes the fog of legend.

A gentle heart may be worth more than pride or valor.

The past remains the past. We can learn from it, but we cannot change it.

Men do not give up their gods so easily.

A little brother may live to be a hundred, but he will always be a little brother.

We live closer to the green in our bogs and crannogs, and we remember Earth and water, soil and stone, oaks and elms and willows, they were here before us all and will still remain when we are gone.

Men live their lives trapped in an eternal present, between the mists of memory and the sea of shadow that is all we know of the days to come.

Yes and no ... can go a long way once you find the right questions.

No man has ever died from bending his knee ... He who kneels may rise again, blade in hand. He who will not kneel stays dead. He who will not kneel stays dead, stiff legs and all.

A man must know how to look before he can hope to see.

What good is peace if it must be purchased with the blood of little children?