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Life is not a song, sweetling. Someday you may learn that, to your sorrow.
George R. R. Martin
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George R. R. Martin
Age: 76
Born: 1948
Born: September 20
Blogger
Contributing Editor
Film Producer
Novelist
Playwright
Prosaist
Science Fiction Writer
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Television Producer
Writer
Bayonne
New Jersey
George Raymond Richard Martin
GRRM
George R.R. Martin
George Raymond Martin
Someday
Sorrow
Learn
Song
May
Life
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O medo corta mais profundamente do que as espadas.
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...and when you’ve known me longer, you’ll learn that I mean everything I say.” “Even the lies?” “Especially the lies.
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When you find yourself in bed with an ugly woman, the best thing to do is close your eyes and get on with it
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You're mine, she whispered. Mine, as I'm yours. And if we die, we die. All men must die, Jon Snow. But first, we'll live.
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Different roads sometimes lead to the same castle.
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Politicians were mostly people who'd had too little morals and ethics to stay lawyers.
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The man who never reads lives only one.
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Tears, she said scornfully to Sansa as the woman was led from the hall. The woman's weapon, my lady mother used to call them. The man's weapon is a sword. And that tells us all you need to know, doesn't it?
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None of us is ever ready,' he (Ned) said. 'For knighthood?' 'For death.
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The odd thing about being a writer is you do tend to lose yourself in your books. Sometimes it seems like real life is flickering by and you're hardly a part of it. You remember the events in your books better than you remember the events that actually took place when you were writing them.
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Ser Jaime? Even in soiled pink satin and torn lace, Brienne looked more like a man in a gown than a proper woman.I am grateful, but...you were well away. Why come back? A dozen quips came to mind, each crueler than the one before, but Jaime only shrugged. I dreamed of you, he said.
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Lady, she whimpered softly, wondering if she would meet her wolf again when she was dead.
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Come at once, she had written to him. Help me. Save me. I need you now as I have never needed you before. I love you. I love you. I love you. Come at once
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Shattered legs may heal in time, but some betrayals fester and poison the soul.
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I will hurt you for this. I don't know how yet, but give me time. A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you'll know the debt is paid.
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Dragons old and young, true and false, bright and dark. And you. A small man with a big shadow, snarling in the midst of all.
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Even the sky was grey. Grey and grey and greyer. The whole world grey, everywhere you look, everything grey except the eyes of the bride. The eyes of the bride were brown. Big and brown and full of fear.
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And I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples and bastards and broken things.
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She could not bear to look at him just now. If she did, she might well slap him again. Or cry. Or kiss him. And never know which was right and which was wrong and which was madness.
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Do dead man dream? The dead themselves are silent on the matter
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