A woman's life is nine parts mess to one part magic, you'll learn that soon enough...and the parts that look like magic turn out to be the messiest of all.
A woman's life is nine parts mess to one part magic, you'll learn that soon enough...and the parts that look like magic turn out to be the messiest of all.
His wits were coming back to him, however slowly. That was good. His wits were all he had.
No man should live longer than his teeth.
The air smelled of paper and dust and years.
They'll kill for that knighthood, but don't ever think they'll die for it.
Yet even so the darkness thickened, until it covered his eyes and filled his nose and stopped his ears, so he could not see or smell or hear or run, and the grey cliffs were gone and the dead horse was gone and his brother was gone and all was black and still and black and cold and black and dead and black…
And all was black and still, and black and cold, and black and dead, and black.
I am only a little lion, child, and I vow, I shall not savage you.
Once, I cut off a man's head, but he did not know it until he tried to brush his hair. Then it fell off.
The Beauty raised her eyes, the only part of her that was truly beautiful.
This world is twisted beyond hope, when lowborn smugglers must vouch for the honor of kings.
You little fool. Tears are not a woman's only weapon. You've got another one between your legs, and you'd best learn to use it. You'll find men use their swords freely enough. Both kinds of swords.
At sixteen, he was cursed with all the certainty of youth, unleavened by any trace of humor or self-doubt, and wed to the arrogance that came so naturally to those born blond and strong and handsome.
I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men.
One night, in his cups, he drank a jar of wildfire, after telling his friends it would transform him into a dragon, but the gods were kind and it transformed him into a corpse.
The brightest flame casts the darkest shadow.
Those are brave men... lets go kill them
Black moleskin gloves covered his hands; the right because it was burned, the left because a man felt half a fool wearing only one glove.
I have climbed these steps so often I know each one by name.
Power is a trick. It lies where we believe it lies.
The gods made our bodies as well as our souls, is it not so? They give us voices, so we might worship them with song. They give us hands, so we might build them temples. And they give us desire, so we might mate and worship them in that way.
Tomorrow's trials concerned her more than yesterday's triumphs.
Bring on your storm, my lord-and recall, if you do, the name of this castle"-Ser Courtnay Penrose at Storm's End.
I have never liked you, Cersei, but you were my own sister, so I never did you harm. You've ended that. I will hurt you for this. I don't know how yet, but give me time. A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you'll know the debt is paid. - Tyrion
Power resides where men believe it to reside.
The little man gave the big one a look. One of his eyes was green, one was black, and both were cool.
Too much light can hurt the eyes, my friend, and fire burns.
Children are a battle of a different sort. ... A battle without banners or warhorns but no less fierce.
I loved a maid as white as winter, with moonglow in her hair.
Robert was never the same after he put on that crown. Some men are like swords, made for fighting. Hang them up and they go to rust.
The Lord of Casterly Rock made such an impressive figure that it was a shock when his destrier dropped a load of dung right at the base of the throne.
Tyrion Lannister could not have been more astonished if Aegon the Conqueror himself had burst into the room, riding on a dragon and juggling lemon pies.
Courage and folly are cousins, or so I've heard.
I must show no fear, no weakness, no doubt.
Robert was the true steel. Stannis is pure iron, black and hard and strong, yes, but brittle, the way iron gets. He'll break before he bends. And Renly, that one, he's copper, bright and shiny, pretty to look at but not worth all that much at the end of the day.
The Lord of Winterfell would always be a Stark
Was there ever a war where only one side bled?
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories