George R.R. Martin

Dying is easy, but victory comes hard.

The sword was not the kingdom, he says.

Dying is not dead.

Silver__ sweet and gold__ our mother, but once you__e dead they__e worth less than that last shit you take as you lie dying.

Cats never weep, she told herself, no more than wolves. It's just a stupid dream.

Surely the Gods did not bring me safe through fire and sea only to kill me with a flux.

Dragons are fire made flesh.

Ice can kill as dead as fire.

The fire that burns against the cold.

Life is warmth and warmth is fire, and fire is God's and God's alone.

Any cat may stare into a fire and see red mice play,

A dozen great fires raged under the city walls, where casks of burning pitch had exploded, but the wildfire reduced them to no more than candles in a burning house, their orange and scarlet pennons fluttering insignificantly against the jade holocaust.

What fire joins none man can put aside,

The little man gave the big one a look. One of his eyes was green, one was black, and both were cool.

His eyes were open wounds beneath his heavy brows, a blue as dark as the sea by night.

Hatred does not stir the stone men half so much as hunger.

A hound will die for you, but never lie to you.

A sweet fruit for a sweet fight.