Klikk på en bok for å legge inn et sitat.
Kings and queens, knights and renegades, liars, lords and honest men. All will play the game of thrones
I am only a little bird, repeating the words they taught me.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Father," Tyrion said. "No need to leap up and embrace me, I wouldn't want you to strain yourself." He crossed the room to their table, acutely conscious of the way his stunted legs made him waddle with every step. Whenever his father's eyes were upon him, he became uncomfortably aware of all his deformities and shortcomings.
Alliser Thorne overheard him. "Lord Snow wants to take my place now." He sneered. "I'd have an easier time teaching a wolf to juggle than you will training aurochs." "I'll take the wager, Ser Alliser," Jon said. "I'd love to see Ghost juggle." Jon heard Grenn suck in his breath, shocked. Silence fell. Then Tyrion Lannister guffawed. Three of the black brothers joined in from a nearby table.
Fear cuts deeper than swords.
Winter is comming.
Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man's nature.
"When you play the Game of Thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle ground."
What in the seven hells is it?
... a mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone, if it is to keep its edge.