“Every man must die, Jon Snow. But first he must live.”
“My skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel.”
“Rhaegar fought valiantly, Rhaegar fought nobly, Rhaegar fought honorably. And Rhaegar died.”
“Old stories are like old friends, she used to say. You have to visit them from time to time.”
“Woman?” She chuckled. “Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man.” Dany met his stare. “I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, khaleesi to Drogo’s riders, and queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.”
“You're mine," she whispered. "Mine, as I'm yours. And if we die, we die. All men must die, Jon Snow. But first, we'll live.”
“We look up at the same stars and see such different things.”
“I crossed a thousand leagues to come to you, and lost the best part of me along the way. Don't tell me to leave.”
“The greatest fools are ofttimes more clever than the men who laugh at them.”
“My sister has mistaken me for a mushroom. She keeps me in the dark and feeds me shit.”
“When you know what a man wants you know who he is, and how to move him.”
“All these kings would do a deal better if they would put down their swords and listen to their mothers.”
“I've lost a hand, a father, a son, a sister, and a lover, and soon enough I will lose a brother. And yet they keep telling me House Lannister won this war.”
“And who are you, the proud Lord said
that I must bow so low?
Only a cat of a different coat,
that's all the truth I know.
In a coat of gold or a coat of red,
a lion still has claws.
And, mine are as long and sharp, my Lord
as long and sharp as yours.
And so he spoke, and so he spoke,
that Lord of Castamere,
but now the rains weep o'er his hall,
with no one there to hear.
Yes, now the rains weep o'er his hall,
and not a soul to hear.”
“It all goes back and back," Tyrion thought, "to our mothers and fathers and theirs before them. We are puppets dancing on the strings of those who came before us, and one day our own children will take up our strings and dance in our steads.”
“Always keep your foes confused. If they are never certain who you are or what you want, they cannot know what you are like to do next. Sometimes the best way to baffle them is to make moves that have no purpose, or even seem to work against you. Remember that, Sansa, when you come to play the game.”
“What . . . what game?”
“The only game. The game of thrones.”
“You were made to be kissed, often and well.”
“Her name is Brienne," Jaime said. "Brienne, the maid of Tarth. You are still maiden, I hope?"
Her broad homely face turned red. "Yes."
"Oh, good," Jaime said. "I only rescue maidens.”
“It hurts so much, she thought. Our children, Ned, all our sweet babes. Rickon, Bran, Arya, Sansa, Robb… Robb… please, Ned, please, make it stop, make it stop hurting… The white tears and the red ones ran together until her face was torn and tattered, the face that Ned had loved. Catelyn Stark raised her hands and watched the blood run down her long fingers, over her wrists, beneath the sleeves of her gown. Slow red worms crawled along her arms and under her clothes. It tickles. That made her laugh until she screamed. “Mad,” someone said, “she’s lost her wits,” and someone else said, “Make an end,” and a hand grabbed her scalp just as she’d done with Jinglebell, and she thought, No, don’t, don’t cut my hair, Ned loves my hair. Then the steel was at her throat, and its bite was red and cold.— Catelyn Stark”
“They are children, Sansa thought. They are silly little girls, even Elinor. They’ve never seen a battle, they’ve never seen a man die, they know nothing. Their dreams were full of songs and stories, the way hers had been before Joffrey cut her fathers head off. Sansa pitied them. Sansa envied them.”
“Noseless and Handless, the Lannister Boys.”
“Sometimes I think everyone is just pretending to be brave, and none of us really are. Maybe pretending is how you get brave, I don't know.”
“There is a savage beast in every man, and when you hand that man a sword or spear and send him forth to war, the beast stirs.”
“Always keep your foes confused. If they are never certain who you are or what you want, they cannot know what you are like to do next.”
“I am the blood of the dragon. I must be strong. I must have fire in my eyes when I face them, not tears.”
“I know I want you," he heard himself say, all his vows and his honor all forgotten. She stood before him naked as her name day, and he was as hard as the rock around them. He had been in her half a hundred times by now, but always beneath furs, with others all around them. He had never seeen how beautiful she was. Her legs were skinny and well muscled, the hair at the juncture of her thighs a brighter red than that on her head. Does that make it even luckier? He pulled her close.
"I love the smell of you," he said. "I love your red hair. I love your mouth, and the way you kiss me. I love your smile. I love your teats." He kissed them, one and then the other. "I love your skinny legs, and what's between them." He knelt to kiss her there, lightly on her mound at first, but Ygritte moved her legs apart a little, and he saw the pink inside and kissed that as well, and tasted her.
She gave a little gasp. "If you love me all so much, why are you still dressed?" she whispered. "You know nothing, Jon Snow. Noth---oh. Oh. OHHH."
Afterward, she was almost shy, or as shy as Ygritte ever got. "The thing you did," she said, when they lay together on their piled clothes. "With your...mouth." She hesistated. "Is that...is it what lordss do to their ladies, down in the south?"
"I don't think so." No one had ever told Jon just what lords did with their ladies. "I only...wanted to kiss you there, that's all. You seemed to like it."
"Aye. I...I liked it some. No one taught you such?"
"There's been no one," he confessed. "Only you.”
“Only lies offend me, never honest counsel.”
“Woman, you bray like an ass, and make no more sense."
"Woman? Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man.”
“My featherbed is deep and soft,
and there I’ll lay you down,
I’ll dress you all in yellow silk
and on your head a crown.
For you shall be my lady love,
and I shall be your lord.
I’ll always keep you warm and safe,
and guard you with my sword.
And how she smiled and how she laughed, the maiden of the tree.
She spun away and said to him,
no featherbed for me.
I’ll wear a gown of golden leaves,
and bind my hair with grass,
But you can be my forest love,
and me your forest lass.”
“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.”
“She carried her head high enough - even when we believed that she was fallen. It was as if she demanded more than ever the recognition of her dignity as the last Grierson; as if it had wanted that touch of earthiness to reaffirm her imperviousness”
“Beautiful things don't ask for attention.”
“The indulgence of denying is by far the worst; it forces us to believe we are doing great things, when in effect we are only fixed within ourselves. To”
“As she neared the gazebo, the unmistakable sounds of passion drifted from the interior. She halted as a woman let out a long, soft moan.
"Oh, Robby, we need to stop. We're missing the party."
"I canna wait another minute," he grumbled in a low voice. "I need you now, Olivia."
The woman let out another long moan that Caitlyn could only interpret as surrender. She tiptoed across the grass, headed in another direction. A feminine squeal emanated from the gazebo, followed by a masculine growl.”
“Okay, I'll move the lawn chairs. (Axel)”
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