A Feast for Crows (A Song of Ice and Fire #4)

by George R.R. Martin

“You always miss your last shot,” said Roone. The apple splashed down into the river, untouched. “See?” said Roone. “The day you make them all is the day you stop improving.”

and no promise was as solemn as one sworn to the dead.

“You won’t try. You will obey.”

“Blood is the seal of our devotion.”

“The world is full of horrors, Tommen. You can fight them, or laugh at them, or look without seeing … go away inside.”

“Of course. Our lies will profit him.”

A lie is not so bad if it is kindly meant. If only she believed them …

“I am tempted to say this is no game we play, daughter, but of course it is. The game of thrones.”

“No fight is hopeless till it has been fought.

Asha shifted in her seat. “My mother raised me to be bold. If I do not go, I will spend the rest of my life wondering what might have happened if I had.” “If you do go, the rest of your life may be too short for wondering.”

“Nothing. My father is very good at doing nothing. He calls it thinking

“so spare me all your pious talk of soiled cloaks. It is not our love that has dishonored you, it is the monsters you have served and the brutes you’ve called your brothers.”

“The first Viserys intended his daughter Rhaenyra to follow him, do you deny it? But as the king lay dying the Lord Commander of his Kingsguard decided that it should be otherwise.” Ser Criston Cole. Criston the Kingmaker had set brother against sister and divided the Kingsguard against itself, bringing on the terrible war the singers named the Dance of the Dragons. Some claimed he acted from ambition, for Prince Aegon was more tractable than his willful older sister. Others allowed him nobler motives, and argued that he was defending ancient Andal custom. A few whispered that Ser Criston had been Princess Rhaenyra’s lover before he took the white and wanted vengeance on the woman who had spurned him. “The Kingmaker wrought grave harm,” Ser Arys said, “and gravely did he pay for it, but …” “…

Fear makes even strong men do things they might never do otherwise,

Sometimes there is no happy choice, Sam, only one less grievous than the others.”

“Men have scars, women mysteries.”

“Honor,” she said. “The point is honor.”

“You lie,” he said. “All men lie when they are afraid. Some tell many lies, some but a few. Some have only one great lie they tell so often that they almost come to believe it … though some small part of them will always know that it is still a lie, and that will show upon their faces. Tell me of these names.”

Many have served Him of Many Faces through the centuries, but only a few of His servants have been women. Women bring life into the world. We bring the gift of death. No one can do both.”

Smiles and scowls should not come upon you like sudden squalls. A smile should be a servant, and come only when you call it. Learn to rule your face.”

Salt a slug and shame a hero, and they shrink right up.

“If they want new boots or a warmer cloak or maybe a rusted iron halfhelm, they need to take them from a corpse, and before long they are stealing from the living too, from the smallfolk whose lands they’re fighting in, men very like the men they used to be. They slaughter their sheep and steal their chickens, and from there it’s just a short step to carrying off their daughters too. And one day they look around and realize all their friends and kin are gone, that they are fighting beside strangers beneath a banner that they hardly recognize. They don’t know where they are or how to get back home and the lord they’re fighting for does not know their names, yet here he comes, shouting for them to form up, to make a line with their spears and scythes and sharpened hoes, to stand their ground. And the knights come down on them, faceless men clad all in steel, and the iron thunder of their charge seems to fill the world …

“He turns and runs, or crawls off afterward over the corpses of the slain, or steals away in the black of night, and he finds someplace to hide. All thought of home is gone by then, and kings and lords and gods mean less to him than a haunch of spoiled meat that will let him live another day, or a skin of bad wine that might drown his fear for a few hours. The broken man lives from day to day, from meal to meal, more beast than man. Lady Brienne is not wrong. In times like these, the traveler must beware of broken men, and fear them … but he should pity them as well.”

Sins may be forgiven. Crimes require punishment.”

She could see it in his eyes. He only pretended to forget; it was easier to do that than to face his shame.

What shamed him in the light of day gave him pleasure in the darkness.

Summer Islanders. That’s how they mourn. They answer death with life.

you Westerosi make a shame of loving. There is no shame in loving. If your septons say there is, your seven gods must be demons. In the isles we know better. Our gods gave us legs to run with, noses to smell with, hands to touch and feel. What mad cruel god would give a man eyes and tell him he must forever keep them shut, and never look at all the beauty in the world? Only a monster god, a demon of the darkness.” Kojja put her hand between Sam’s legs. “The gods gave you this for a reason too, for … what is your Westerosi word?” “Fucking,” Xhondo offered helpfully. “Yes, for fucking. For the giving of pleasure and the making of children. There is no shame in that.”

“What we did … if I could take a wife, I would sooner have you than any princess or highborn maiden, but I can’t. I am still a crow. I said the words, Gilly. I went with Jon into the woods and said the words before a heart tree.” “The trees watch over us,” Gilly whispered, brushing the tears from his cheeks. “In the forest, they see all … but there are no trees here. Only water, Sam. Only water.”

“Shall we keep a brisker pace? The sun will soon be setting, and corpses make poor company by night. These were dark and dangerous men, alive. I doubt that death will have improved them.” “There we disagree,” said Ser Hyle. “These are just the sort of fellows who are most improved by death.”