Fire Consumes, But Cold Preserves.

‎[melisandre] "his Grace Is Growing Fond Of You." [jon] "i Can Tell. He Only Threatened To Behead Me Twice." Page 58

Better To Mock The Game Than To Play And Lose.

As Daenerys Targaryen Rose To Her Feet, Her Black Hissed, Pale Smoke Venting From Its Mouth And Nostrils. The Other Two Pulled Away From Her Breasts And Added Their Voices To The Call, Translucent Wings Unfolding And Stirring The Air, And For The First Time In Hundreds Of Years, The Night Came Alive With The Music Of Dragons.

Robb: Uncle Benjen Said To Send You To The Stables If I Saw You. Jon: I Have One More Farewell To Make. Robb: Then I Haven't Seen You.

In The World As I Have Seen It, No Man Grows Rich By Kindness.