A Clash of Kings (A Song of Ice and Fire, #2)

by George R.R. Martin

“When you tear out a man’s tongue, you are not proving him a liar, you’re only telling the world that you fear what he might say.”

“I would sooner be up, though the world be dark, than lie restless abed, fretting on tasks undone,”

It wanted salt.

The longer he lived, the more Tyrion realized that nothing was simple and little was true.

On the night of their escape, the flames of the burning town had shimmered so brightly on the water that it had seemed that the lake was afire.

“Our enemies leave our bodies for the crows and the wolves. Our friends bury us in secret graves.

Dany nibbled at an onion and reflected ruefully on the faithlessness of men.

Sharp steel and strong arms rule this world, don’t ever believe any different.”

Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same.”

If I had wings I could fly back to Winterfell and see for myself. And if it was true, I’d just fly away, fly up past the moon and the shining stars, and see all the things in Old Nan’s stories, dragons and sea monsters and the Titan of Braavos, and maybe I wouldn’t ever fly back unless I wanted to.

Their voices buzzed in his ears like wasps muffled in thick felt.

The tree had been dead a long time, but it seemed to live again in the fire, as fiery dancers woke within each stick of wood to whirl and spin in their glowing gowns of yellow, red, and orange.