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

by George R.R. Martin

Perhaps you would be so good as to escort me back up to my litter?”

Four hairs on his lip and he thinks he’s a man.”

“She won’t like that,” Bronn warned. “Good. The longer Cersei waits, the angrier she’ll become, and anger makes her stupid. I much prefer angry and stupid to composed and cunning.”

“Wise measures. Though I have no love for that alchemist’s piss.”

When the boar did open him, a great stench rose to heaven and a thousand snakes slid forth from his belly, hissing and biting!”

A pious man who worships the Seven so fervently that he eats a meal for each of them whenever he sits to table.

Myrcella is my only daughter. Did you truly imagine that I would allow you to sell her like a bag of oats?”

“and I suspect Martell will treat Myrcella more kindly than Joffrey has treated Sansa Stark.

Mooop

“Sweet sweet sister,” he said, “I promise you, that was the last time you will ever strike me.”

Tyrion Lannister could not have been more astonished if Aegon the Conqueror himself had burst into the room, riding on a dragon and juggling lemon pies.

“There is sitting and there is sitting,” Tyrion suggested. “Each one waits for the other to move, but the lion is still, poised, his tail twitching, while the fawn is frozen by fear, bowels turned to jelly. No matter which way he bounds, the lion will have him, and he knows it.”

well, that was the plum in his pudding.

He could feel its hot snaky fingers wriggling through his chest as he swallowed.

One day, she promised herself as she lay abed, one day she would allow herself to be less than strong. But not today. It could not be today.

“There are birds in this grass. Would you fancy a roast quail to break your fast this morning?”

but howevermuch he loved his food, he loved his honor more.

“No one has ever died of restlessness, but rashness is another matter. We’ve planted seeds, let them grow.”

The white horse and the black one wheeled like lovers at a harvest dance, the riders throwing steel in place of kisses.

Is there any creature on earth as unfortunate as an ugly woman?

“The distance between a lord and a grace is a small one, my lady,”

If you wish, we may stand here in the mud and debate what honors and titles are rightly due to each, but it strikes me that we have more pressing matters to consider.”

“It would seem the direwolf is gentler than the lion.”

Can you drown in grief?

They are boys drunk on song and story, and like all boys, they think themselves immortal.

“Because they are the knights of summer, and winter is coming.”

King is only a word, but fealty, loyalty, service … those I must have.”

“Does this mud look like shit to you? Could it be that this whole hill is made of Craster’s shit?”

well into the winter of his days now,

The woman’s mouth hung open, a wet pink cave,

I’ll thank you not to tell such evil tales under my roof.

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

“Are you one of Craster’s daughters?” he asked. She put a hand over her belly. “Wife now.”

Blegh

“Gilly, he called me. For the gillyflower.” “That’s pretty.” He remembered Sansa telling him once that he should say that whenever a lady told him her name. He could not help the girl, but perhaps the courtesy would please her.

“Sam, have you taken leave of all your sense?

“A bannerman who is brutal or unjust dishonors his liege lord as well as himself.”

This lordling has a honeyed tongue.”

“And your blood will be in the sea, if you sail the way you talk,”

“Fair maiden?” She laughed. “She’s a sea bitch, this one.”

Let her believe I want her wisdom, women fancy that.

“I knew a man once who told me that I smiled at the wrong things.”

“Only a fool humbles himself when the world is so full of men eager to do that job for him.”

“So you say, but your body shows no signs of it. How shall it be proven? Before I believe you, I shall need to see your breasts grow ripe, and taste your mother’s milk.”

Next time, grow a tongue.”

That’s my cursed luck, I kill the poor.

“Are you drinking ale or wine tonight, Theon?” She leaned over close. “Or is it still a taste of my mother’s milk you thirst for?”

He’d drunk enough wine to float him through two meals.

“I’m a man with a man’s hungers. What sort of unnatural creature are you?”

Asha smiled like a cat in cream.

Robb the boy will find himself caught like a rat in a bottle.”

“Is this the bed where Robert died? I’m surprised you kept it.” “It gives me sweet dreams,”