#asoiaf

I would choose freedom over comfort every time. ↗

— George R.R. Martin

#asoiaf #val #freedom

There are no men like me. There's only me. ↗

— George R.R. Martin

#men

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. ↗

— George R.R. Martin

#asoiaf #fantasy #grrm #fantasy

Kind? How boring that would be. I aspire to be wicked. ↗

— George R.R. Martin

#myranda-royce #aspiration

A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies.. ↗

— George R.R. Martin

#fantasy-fiction #game-of-thrones #medieval #fantasy-fiction

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. ↗

— George R.R. Martin

#asoiaf #fantasy #grrm #love

It was the easiest thing in the world for Arya to step up behind him and stab him. “Is there gold hidden in the village?” she shouted as she drove the blade up through his back. “Is there silver? Gems?” She stabbed twice more. “Is there food? Where is Lord Beric?” She was on top of him by then, still stabbing. “Where did he go? How many men were with him? How many knights? How many bowmen? How many, how many, how many, how many, how many, how many? is there gold in the village? ↗

— George R.R. Martin

#food