A man who won't listen can't hear.
A man who won't listen can't hear.
His cloak was his crowning glory; sable, thick and black and soft as sin.
Minds are like swords, I do fear. The old ones go to rust.
So be it. I'll wear my iron and hold my tongue. A man who won't listen can't hear.
Why is it always the innocents who suffer most, when you high lords play your game of thrones?
Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover's kisses, and melted on her cheeks. At the center of the garden, beside the statue of the weeping woman that lay broken and half-buried on the ground, she turned her face up to the sky and closed her eyes. She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams.
Remember Old Nan's stories, Bran. Remember the way she told them, the sound of her voice. So long as you do that, part of her will always be alive in you.
A true man does what he will, not what he must.
I am surrounded by flatterers and fools. It can drive a man to madness,.. . Half of them don't dare tell me the truth, and the other half can't find it.
Most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it.
Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.
Why is it that when one man builds a wall, the next man immediately needs to know what's on the other side?
Every man must die, Jon Snow. But first he must live.
Rhaegar fought valiantly, Rhaegar fought nobly, Rhaegar fought bravely. And Rhaegar died.
All dwarfs may be bastards yet not all bastards are dwarfs.
I am surrounded by flatterers and fools.
Mother, I want to see him fly!
Something about the howling of a wolf took a man right out of his here and now and left him in a dark forest of the mind, running naked before the pack.
Wisdom oft comes from the mouth of babes.
Every once in a very long while, Lord Tywin Lannister would actually threaten to smile; he never did, but the threat alone was terrible to behold.
Ser Cleos looked like a weasel, fought like a goose, and had the courage of an especially brave ewe.
A hound will die for you, but never lie to you. And he'll look you straight in the face.
His lips look like two worms fucking.
Lady, I have never been a hero, no Ryam Redwyne or Barristan the Bold. I've won no tourneys, no renown in war... but I was a knight once, and you have helped me remember what that meant. My life is a poor thing, but it is yours.
Sweet smells are sometimes used to cover foul ones.
There's no shame in fear, my father told me, what matters is how we face it.
Why should death make a man truthful, or even clever? The dead are likely dull fellows, full of tedious complaints - the ground's too cold, my gravestone should be larger, why does he get more worms than I do...
No mortal man could frighten him, no more than the darkness could, nor the bones of his soul, the grey and grisly bones of his soul.
A small victory, he thought, but sweet.
His time was past, her handmaid Irri declared. No man should live longer than his teeth.
Littlefinger looked like a boy who had just taken a furtive bite from a honeycomb. He was TRYING to watch for bees, but the honey was so sweet.
Tears, she said scornfully to Sansa 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?
These old knights are more cunning than you think, or they would never have lived to see their first grey hair.
Woman? Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man
Only the soldier pines and sentinels still showed green; the broadleaf trees had donned mantles of russet and gold, or else uncloaked themselves to scratch against the sky with branches brown and bare.
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…
That was the way of this cold world, where men fished the sea and dug in the ground and died, whilst women brought forth short-lived children from beds of blood and pain.
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.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories