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When Your Enemies Defy You, You Must Serve Them Steel And Fire. When They Go To Their Knees, However, You Must Help Them Back To Their Feet. Elsewise No Man Will Ever Bend The Knee To You

-George R. R. Martin

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When Your Enemies Defy

George R. R. Martin

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When Your Enemies Defy You, You Must Serve Them Steel And Fire. When They Go To Their Knees, However, You Must Help Them Back To Their Feet. Elsewise No Man Will Ever Bend The Knee To You

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If? The Word Is When.

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And All Was Black And Still, And Black And Cold, And Black And Dead, And Black.

There Is A Savage Beast In Every Man, And When You Hand That Man A Sword Or Spear And Send Him Forth To War, The Beast Stirs.

You Can't Hammer Tin Into Iron, No Matter How Hard You Beat It, But That Doesn't Mean It's Useless.

When I Sleep I Turn Into A Wolf. Bran Turned His Face Away And Looked Back Out Into The Night. Do Wolves Dreams?

The Girl Had Hoped For Fog, But The Gods Ignored Her Prayers As Gods So Often Did.

And Any Man Who Must Say 'i Am King' Is No True King At All.

Song Of Ice And Fire

There Are Two Kinds Of Writers. There Are Architects And Gardeners. The Architects Do Blueprints Before They Drive The First Nail. The Gardeners Just Dig A Hole And Plant The Seed And See What Comes Up.

Sorcery Is The Sauce Fools Spoon Over Failure To Hide The Flavor Of Their Own Incompetence.

Sometimes I Think Everyone Is Just Pretending To Be Brave, And None Of Us Really Are. Maybe Pretending Is How You Get Brave, I Don't Know.

The Intelligent And Efficient Politician Is A Species Virtually Unknown In The Galaxy. Perhaps I Might Secure A Scraping [for My] Cell Library.

Nothing Burns Like The Cold. But Only For A While. Then It Gets Inside You And Starts To Fill You Up, And After A While You Don't Have The Strength To Fight It.

We Know Truth For The Cruel Instrument It Is. Beauty Is Infinitely Preferable To Truth.

Every Man Must Die, Jon Snow. But First He Must Live.

This World Is Twisted Beyond Hope, When Lowborn Smugglers Must Vouch For The Honor Of Kings.

I Thought My Song Was Beginning That Day, But It Was Almost Done.

It’s Being Ready To Accept Rejection. You Can Work On A Book For Two Years And Get It Published, And It’s Like You May As Well Have Thrown It Down A Well. It’s Not All Champagne And Doing Interviews With The New York Times.

She Had Put Despair And Fear Aside, As If They Were Garments She Did Not Choose To Wear.

For Herself, She Wanted Sleet And Ice, Howling Winds, Thunder To Shake The Very Stones Of The Red Keep. She Wanted A Storm To Match Her Rage.

I Had A Couple Of Friends, But I Was Mostly The Kid With His Nose In A Book.

She Remembered The Godswood, Drooping Branches Heavy With Moisture, And The Sound Of Her Brother’s Laughter As He Chased Her Through Piles Of Damp Leaves.

Unfortunately In Television, For Whatever Reason, Fantasy Became Thought Of As A Kids' Genre.

What's Dead May Never Die.

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.

He Pushed Himself To His Feet. “don’t Lie, Sansa. I Am Malformed, Scarred, And Small, But…” She Could See Him Groping “…abed, When The Candles Are Blown Out, I Am Made No Worse Than Other Men. In The Dark, I Am The Knight Of Flowers.” He Took A Draught Of Wine. “i Am Generous. Loyal To Those Who Are Loyal To Me. I’ve Proven I’m No Craven. And I Am Cleverer Than Most, Surely Wits Count For Something. I Can Even Be Kind. Kindness Is Not A Habit With Us Lannisters, I Fear, But I Know I Have Some Somewhere. I Could Be… I Could Be Good To You.

Some Old Wounds Never Truly Heal, And Bleed Again At The Slightest Word.

Bear Island Knows No King But The King In The North, Whose Name Is Stark.

Men Live Their Lives Trapped In An Eternal Present, Between The Mists Of Memory And The Sea Of Shadow That Is All We Know Of The Days To Come.

No Fight Is Hopeless Till It Has Been Fought.

You'll Find Truth In Your Looking Glass, Not On The Tongues Of Men.

The Heart Lies And The Head Plays Tricks With Us, But The Eyes See True.

He Never Wanted Love, Though. You Cannot Eat Love, Nor Buy A Horse With It, Nor Warm Your Halls On A Cold Night.

The Eunuch Had Looked Death In The Face, So Near He Might Have Kissed Her On The Lips.

Noseless And Handless, The Lannister Boys.

And If I'm Guilty Of Having Gratuitous Sex, Then I'm Also Guilty Of Having Gratuitous Violence, And Gratuitous Feasting, And Gratuitous Description Of Clothes, And Gratuitous Heraldry, Because Very Little Of This Is Necessary To Advance The Plot. But My Philosophy Is That Plot Advancement Is Not What The Experience Of Reading Fiction Is About. If All We Care About Is Advancing The Plot, Why Read Novels? We Can Just Read Cliffs Notes.

I'm Sorry That I Never Trusted You. I Don't Know How To Do That Anymore.

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They'll Kill For That Knighthood, But Don't Ever Think They'll Die For It.

And The Mystery Knight Should Defeat All Challengers And Name The Wolf Maid The Queen Of Love And Beauty.

It's Very Hard To Find A Good Child Actor. There Are A Lot Of Child Actors Out There, Especially In America, And They're Cute Kids, But Most Child Actors Appear On Sitcoms Where Their Main Role Is To Be Cute And Make Funny Little Remarks.

You Look Pale, Sansa," Cersei Observed. "is Your Red Flower Still Blooming?" "yes" "how Apt. The Men Will Bleed Out There, And You In Here.

The Unseen Enemy Is Always The Most Fearsome.

I Try To Make The Readers Feel They've Lived The Events Of The Book. Just As You Grieve If A Friend Is Killed, You Should Grieve If A Fictional Character Is Killed. You Should Care. If Somebody Dies And You Just Go Get More Popcorn, It's A Superficial Experience Isn't It?

For The Night Is Dark And Full Of Terrors.

The Morning Had Dawned Clear And Cold, With A Crispness That Hinted At The End Of Summer.

I Don't Like The Strictly Objective Viewpoint [in Which All Of The Characters' Actions Are Described In The Third Person, But We Never Hear What Any Of Them Are Thinking.] Which Is Much More Of A Cinematic Technique. Something Written In Third Person Objective Is What The Camera Sees. Because Unless You're Doing A Voiceover, Which Is Tremendously Clumsy, You Can't Hear The Ideas Of Characters. For That, We Depend On Subtle Clues That The Directors Put In And That The Actors Supply. I Can Actually Write, "'yes You Can Trust Me,' He Lied." [but It's Better To Get Inside The Characters' Heads.]

Summer Is The Time For Squabbles. In Winter, We Must Protect One Another, Keep Each Other Warm, Share Our Strengths.

My Old Grandmother Always Used To Say, Summer Friends Will Melt Away Like Summer Snows, But Winter Friends Are Friends Forever.

If Somebody Dies And You Just Go Get More Popcorn, It’s A Superficial Experience Isn’t It?

I Stayed Sober For This?

Even In Dreams, You Could Not Fall Forever.

Little Redcape," He Snarled, "when Next You Bare Steel On Shagga Son Of Dolf, I Will Chop Off Your Manhood And Roast It In The Fire." "what, No Goats?" Tyrion Said, Taking A Bite Of His Cheese.

The Man Who Fears Losing Has Already Lost.

On The Gallows Tree, All Men Are Brothers.

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