George R.R. Martin · 690 pages
Rating: (18.8K votes)
“Oberyn wanted vengeance for Elia. Now the three of you want vengeance for him. I have four daughters, I remind you. Your sisters. My Elia is fourteen, almost a woman. Obella is twelve, on the brink of maidenhood. They worship you, as Dorea and Loreza worship them. If you should die, must El and Obella seek vengeance for you, then Dorea and Loree for them? Is that how it goes, round and round forever? I ask again, where does it end?" Ellaria Sand laid her hands on the Mountain's head. "I saw your father die. Here is his killer. Can I take a skull to bed with me, to give me comfort in the night? Will it make me laugh, write me songs, care for me when I am old and sick?”
“Aye," the prince said. "I told the story to Ser Balon, but not all of it. As the children splashed in the pools, Daenerys watched from amongst the orange trees, and a realization came to her. She could not tell the highborn from the low. Naked, they were only children. All innocent, all vulnerable, all deserving of long life, love, protection. "There is your realm," she told her son and heir, "remember them, on everything you do." My own mother said those same words to me when I was old enough to leave the pools. It is an easy thing for a prince to call the spears, but in the end the children pay the price. For their sake, the wise prince will wage non war without good cause, nor any war he cannot hope to win.
"I am not blind, nor deaf. I know that you all believe me weak, frightened, feeble. Your father knew me better. Oberyn was ever the viper. Deadly, dangerous, unpredictable. No man dared tread on him. I was the grass. Pleasant, complaisant, sweet-smelling, swaying with every breeze. Who fears to walk upon the grass? But it is the grass that hides the viper from his enemies and shelters him until he strikes. Your father and I worked more closely than you know...but now he is gone. The question is, can I trust his daughters to serve me in his place?”
“It is a wise woman who knows her place.”
“Snow still chose to dwell behind the armory, in a pair of modest rooms previously occupied by the Watch's late blacksmith. Perhaps he did not think himself worthy of the King's Tower, or perhaps he did not care. That was his mistake, the false humility of youth that is itself a sort of pride. It was never wise for a ruler to eschew the trappings of power, for power itself flows in no small measure from such trappings.”
“Trackers and hunters sworn to deepwood with clan names like Forrester and Woods, branch and bole.”
“Later, when Arianne had gone, he put down his longaxe and lifted Prince Doran into his bed. "Until the Mountain crushed my brother's skull, no Dornishman had died in this War of the Five Kings," the prince murmured softly, as Hotah pulled a blanket over him. "Tell me, Captain, is that my shame or my glory?”
“Oberyn her zaman bir yılandı. Ölümcül, tehlikeli ve öngörülemez. Kimse onu çiğnemeye cesaret edemezdi. Ben çimendim. Hoş, lütufkâr, güzel kokulu, her rüzgârla sallanan. Kim çimenin üstünden yürümekten korkar ki? Fakat yılanı düşmanlardan koruyan ve saldıracağı vakte kadar gizleyen, çimendir.”
“I hate that about guys. At least girls have the decency to be fake and pretend everything’s okay when shit gets weird. Whenever guys get upset, they get all angry and scary”
“Imagine, if you will, that the sum of all human thoughts could be represented on a measuring scale. The thoughts of a powerful maston, one enabled by the Medium to his fullest potential, could each be represented by a gold coin on one side. Imagine then, that all of the evil, uncontrolled, vengeful thoughts have the weight of chaff and try to tip the scales. The world is a granary of ill-bred thoughts. There is enough to weigh down the world, to bury each one of us alive. Yet if we have enough of the good, it balances it out or keeps it firmly in the cause of right. Imagine, then, scales the size of a kingdom. How many gold coins are there compared with chaff? Enough—just enough. There is enough weight and enough strength to keep the scales balanced. But if you begin to remove the gold coins, one by one? Then every seed of evil matters. Every little seed begins to tip the scales. As long as the scales are balanced to the side of the mastons, the Medium blesses everyone—both the evil and the good. But if the balance is altered, if the weight of the wrong begins to exceed the weight of the right, it triggers the Blight to purge the chaff. It is a warning from the Medium. There are curses that follow.”
“… убеждението, което ние всички храним на тази възраст, че семействата на нашите приятели са много симпатични, по-приятни и интересни – с една дума, по-желани, – отколкото нашите собствени?”
“At long last, you may no longer distinguish what binds you from what is you.”
“As god is my witness, it was never my intent to throw out the constitution. I thought it was hanging by a thread, and I could save it... You don't save it by cutting that thread. - President Nielson”
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