more quotations

“Fighting is better than this waiting,” Brienne said. “You don’t feel so helpless when you fight. You have a sword and a horse, sometimes an
axe. When you’re armored it’s hard for anyone to hurt you.”
“Knights die in battle,” Catelyn reminded her.
Brienne looked at her with those blue and beautiful eyes. “As ladies die in childbed. No one sings songs about them.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“When you sense that your dark night is one of pregnancy and oceanic return, you could react accordingly and be still. Watch and wonder. Take the human embryo as your model. Assume the fetal position, emotionally and intellectually. Be silent. Float in your darkness as if it were the waters of the womb, and give up trying to fight your way out or make sense of it.”
― Thomas Moore

 

“There are worse ways to die than warm and drunk. I knew a brother drowned himself in wine once. It was a poor vintage, though, and his corpse did not improve it.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“Baseball is a soap opera that lends itself to probabilistic thinking. [Dick Cramer]”
― Michael Lewis, Moneyball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game

    

“A grey man,” she said. “Neither white nor black, but partaking of both. Is that what you are, Ser Davos?”
“What if I am? It seems to me that most men are grey.”
“If half of an onion is black with rot, it is a rotten onion. A man is good, or he is evil.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“The gods don’t care about men, no more than kings care about peasants.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“Bronn himself, who’d only smiled that insolent dark smile of his and afterward said, “They’ll kill for that knighthood, but don’t ever think they’ll die for it.”
Tyrion had no such delusion.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“Baseball has so much history and tradition. You can respect it, or you can exploit it for profit, but it's still being made all over the place, all the time.”
― Michael Lewis, Moneyball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game

    

 

“Maester Luwin says there’s nothing in dreams that a man need fear.”
“There is,” said Jojen.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“Music to my ears.” Though not a tune I’m fond of.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“You told me that the children of the forest had the greensight. I remember.”
“Some claimed to have that power. Their wise men were called greenseers.”
“Was it magic?”
“Call it that for want of a better word, if you must. At heart it was only a different sort of knowledge.”
Oh, to be sure, there is much we do not understand. The years pass in their hundreds and
their thousands, and what does any man see of life but a few summers, a few winters? We look at mountains and call them eternal, and so
they seem . . . but in the course of time, mountains rise and fall, rivers change their courses, stars fall from the sky, and great cities sink
beneath the sea. Even gods die, we think. Everything changes.
So long as there was magic, anything could happen. Ghosts could walk, trees could talk, and broken boys could grow up to be knights.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“Tell me who’s won and I’ll tell you what it means.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“Oo ee oo ah ah ting tang walla walla bing bang”
― The Witch Doctor

    

“...and when you’ve known me longer, you’ll learn that I mean everything I say.” “Even the lies?”
“Especially the lies.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“the Drowned God”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“I knew a man once who told me that I smiled at the wrong things”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“As always when I was in trouble, I looked down at Tuesday. I could see his concern, but also his confidence in me. There was something about his eyes, when he looked at me, that always said, I believe in you, Luis.”
― Luis Carlos Montalván

 

“Instead of seeing all of this as God's extraordinary grace, we come to expect the comfort and joys that God gives us as the baseline, the measure of what we believe to be our due. When our comfort level drops below our expectations, we are shocked and angered, and even foolishly express our outrage to God Himself.”
― R.C. Sproul Jr., The Call to Wonder: Loving God like a Child

 

“Wherever she looked, she saw fires. They covered the earth like fallen stars, and like the stars there was no end to them.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“It is one thing to deceive a king, and quite another to hide from the cricket in the rushes and the little bird in the chimney.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“A lord’s one thing, a king’s another.” He offered the raven a handful of corn from his pocket. “They will garb your brother Robb in silks, satins, and velvets of a hundred different colors, while you live and die in black ringmail. He will wed some beautiful princess and father sons on her. You’ll have no wife, nor will you ever hold a child of your own blood in your arms. Robb will rule, you will serve. Men will call you a crow. Him they’ll call Your Grace. Singers will praise every little thing he does, while your greatest deeds all go unsung. Tell me that none of this troubles you, Jon . . . and I’ll name you a liar, and know I have the truth of it.”
Jon drew himself up, taut as a bowstring. “And if it did trouble me, what might I do, bastard as I am?” “What will you do?” Mormont asked. “Bastard as you are?”
“Be troubled,” said Jon, “and keep my vows.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“It was the end of the world.
And we are going beyond it.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“Have you had contact with any other survivors?"
"Only one," the Alderaanian senator said grimly. "Lock onto my coordinates. He's waiting for you.”
― Matthew Stover, Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith

 

“No my friend, darkness is not everywhere, for here and there I find faces illuminated from within; paper lanterns among the dark trees.”
― Carole Borges

    

 

“The air smelled of paper and dust and years. Jon plucked a scroll from a bin, blew off the worst of the dust. A corner flaked off between his fingers as he unrolled it. “Look, this one is crumbling,” he said, frowning over the faded script.
“Be gentle.” Sam came around the table and took the scroll from his hand, holding it as if it were a wounded animal. “The important books used to be copied over when they needed them. Some of the oldest have been copied half a hundred times, probably.”
“Well, don’t bother copying that one. Twenty-three barrels of pickled cod, eighteen jars of fish oil, a cask of salt . . .”
“An inventory,” Sam said, “or perhaps a bill of sale.”
“Who cares how much pickled cod they ate six hundred years ago?” Jon wondered.
“I would.” Sam carefully replaced the scroll in the bin from which Jon had plucked it. “You can learn so much from ledgers like that, truly you can. It can tell you how many men were in the Night’s Watch then, how they lived, what they ate . . .”
“They ate food,” said Jon, “and they lived as we live.”
“You’d be surprised. This vault is a treasure, Jon.”
“If you say so.” Jon was doubtful. Treasure meant gold, silver, and jewels, not dust, spiders, and rotting leather.
“I do,” the fat boy blurted. He was older than Jon, a man grown by law, but it was hard to think of him as anything but a boy. “I found drawings of the faces in the trees, and a book about the tongue of the children of the forest . . . works that even the Citadel doesn’t have, scrolls from old Valyria, counts of
the seasons written by maesters dead a thousand years . . .”
“The books will still be here when we return.”
“If we return . . .”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“We aren't just service dog and master, Tuesday and I are also best friends. Kindred souls, Brothers. Whatever you want to call it.”
― Luis Carlos Montalván, Until Tuesday: A Wounded Warrior and the Golden Retriever Who Saved Him

 

“All men must sleep, Bran. Even princes.”
“When I sleep I turn into a wolf.” Bran turned his face away and looked back out into the night. “Do wolves dream?”
“All creatures dream, I think, yet not as men do.”
“Do dead men dream?” Bran asked, thinking of his father. In the dark crypts below Winterfell, a stonemason was chiseling out his father’s likeness in granite.
“Some say yes, some no,” the maester answered. “The dead themselves are silent on the matter.”
“Do trees dream?”
“Trees? No . . .”
“They do,” Bran said with sudden certainty. “They dream tree dreams. I dream of a tree sometimes. A weirwood, like the one in the godswood. It calls to me. The wolf dreams are better. I smell things, and sometimes I can taste the blood.”
Maester Luwin tugged at his chain where it chafed his neck. “If you would only spend more time with the other children—”
“I hate the other children,” Bran said, meaning the Walders. “I commanded you to send them away.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“Now here is a riddle,” Melisandre said. “A clever fool and a foolish wise man.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

 

“If you always try to measure yourself with
money... well, it's like counting backwards, the more you
keep on, the less you'll have to show for it.”
― Steven J. Carroll, The Road to Jericho