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There can be no outrage, methinks, against our common nature—whatever be the delinquencies of the individual—, no outrage more flagrant than to forbid the culprit to hide his face for shame;

Se tratase de quien se tratase, si me asomaba hasta el fondo, siempre descubría dentro de cada persona algo brillaba con luz propia.

Se tratase de quien se tratase, si me asomaba hasta el fondo, siempre descubría dentro de cada persona algo brillaba con luz propia.

In our nature (...) there is a provision , alike marvellous and merciful, that the sufferer should never know the intensity of what he endures by its present torture, but chiefly by the pang that rankles after it.

Families myst be like this—gore one minute, forgiveness the next.

It did no good to brood on lost battles and roads not taken. That was a vice of old done men.

That is how it is when a man grows as old as Pycelle. Everything you see or hear reminds you of something you saw or heard when you were young.

Men with comfortable seats were more inclined to listen, Maester Aemon had once told him; standing men are more inclined to shout.

Proud men might shout that they would sooner die free than live as slaves, but pride was cheap. When the steel struck the flint, such men were rare as dragon’s teeth; elsewise the world would not have been so full of slaves. There has never been a slave who did not choose to be a slave, the dwarf reflected. Their choice may be between bondage and death, but the choice is always there.

Cunt again? It was odd how men like Suggs used that word to demean women when it was the only part of a woman they valued.

The most insidious thing about bondage was how easy it was to grow accustomed to it.

Victarion Greyjoy mistrusted laughter. The sound of it always left him with the uneasy feeling that he was the butt of some jape he did not understand.

Contempt, thought Tyrion, the universal tongue.

The only time a man can be brave is when he is afraid.

the more effortless the sorcery appears, the more men fear the sorcerer.

It was never wise for a ruler to eschew the trappings of power, for power itself flows in no small measure from such trappings.

sorcery was a sword without a hilt. There is no safe way to grasp it.

Give me priests who arefat and corrupt and cynical, (...) the sort who like to sit on soft satin cushions, nibble sweetmeats, and diddle little boys. It’s the ones who believe in gods who make the troulble.

Still, she was at peace: to be home, to be writing her blog, to have discovered Lagos again. She had, finally, spun herself fully into being.

many of us didn’t marry the woman we truly loved. We married the woman thar was around when we were ready to marry.

There are many different ways to be poor in the world but increasingly there seems to be one single way to be rich.

Perhaps he should have talked more with her, (...) because although they exchanged pleasant sounds and were good friends and shared comfortable silences, they did not really talk. But he had never tried, because he knew that the questions he asked of life were entirely different from hers.

“People do really become eccentric when they become rich.”
“Or maybe we all have eccentricity in us, we just don’t have the money to show it?”

A renovated two-hundred-year-old mill granary, (...) the kind of thing Europeans like. It doesn’t work here at all. But of course it makes sense because we are Third Wordlers and Third Wordlers are forward-looking, we like things to be new, because our best is still ahead, while in the West their best is already past and so they have to make a fetish of that past.

a wordless fear had seized her, a fear of breaking delicate things.

He often paused before he spoke. She thought this exquisite; it was as though he had such regard for his listener that he wanted his words strung together in the best possible way.

Everybody in this country has the mentality of scarcity. We imagine that even the things that are not scarce are scarce. And it breeds a kind of desperation in everybody. Even the wealthy.

Priye had the sure, slightly sinister manner of someone who could get other people to do what she wanted.

here she was now, disliking it with the haughty confidence of a person who recognized kitsch.

she felt suddenly guiltily grateful that she had a blue American passport in her bag. It shielded her from choicelessness. She could always leave; she did not have to stay.