George R.R. Martin

Half-truths are worth more than outright lies.

He drew the dagger and laid it on the table between them; a length of dragonbone and Valyrian steel, as sharp as the difference between right and wrong, between true and false, between life and death.

You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needs you...

Look at me!" he would shout as he ran laughing through the halls of Storm's End. "Look at me, I'm a dragon," or "Look at me, I'm a wizard," or "Look at me, look at me, I'm the rain

Shall I prick my prick as well?

The day will come when you need them to respect you, even fear you a little. Laughter is poison to fear.

Every blade of grass was carved from emerald, every drip of water turned to diamond.

It was queer how sometimes a child's innocent eyes can see things that grown men are blind to.

A book can be as dangerous as a sword in the right hands

Most of my kin are bastards," [Tyrion] said with a wry smile, "but you're the first I've had to friend.

For men, the answer was always the same and never farther away than the nearest sword. For a woman, a mother, the way was stonier and harder to know.

Up and down," Meera would sigh sometimes as they walked, "then down and up. Then up and down again. I hate these stupid mountains of yours, Prince Bran.""Yesterday you said you loved them.""Oh, I do. My lord father told me about mountains, but I never saw one till now. I love them more than I can say."Bran made a face at her. "But you just said you hated them.""Why can't it be both?" Meera reached up to pinch his nose."Because they're different," he insisted. "Like night and day, or ice and fire.""If ice can burn," said Jojen in his solemn voice, "then love and hate can mate. Mountain or marsh, it makes no matter. The land is one.""One," his sister agreed, "but over wrinkled.

They can keep their heaven. When I die, I__ sooner go to Middle Earth.

It all goes back and back," Tyrion thought, "to our mothers and fathers and theirs before them. We are puppets dancing on the strings of those who came before us, and one day our own children will take up our strings and dance in our steads.

Most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it.

People often claim to hunger for truth, but seldom like the taste when it's served up.

A man who hates music can't be trusted.

Hard hands and no sense of humor makes for a bad marriage.