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Spikes, he sighed. Heads. Walls.
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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Writer
Bayonne
New Jersey
George Raymond Richard Martin
GRRM
George R.R. Martin
George Raymond Martin
Spikes
Sighed
Walls
Heads
Wall
More quotes by George R. R. Martin
You mistake patience for forbearance.
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Kind? How boring that would be. I aspire to be wicked.
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No fight is hopeless till it has been fought.
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She had killed him with a whisper, and she would kill two more before she was through. I’m the ghost in Harrenhal, she thought. And that night, there was one less name to hate.
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Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.
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Always keep your foes confused. If they are never certain who you are or what you want, they cannot know what you are like to do next.
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If a man paints a target on his chest, he should expect that sooner or later someone will loose an arrow on him.
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Anyone can be killed.
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If the day comes when you would find me again, give that coin to any man from Braavos, and say these words to him--valar morghulis.
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Valar Morghulis - All men must die.
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Contempt, thought Tyrion, the universal tongue.
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You look different now. Like a proper little girl, (said Gendry.) I look like an oak tree, with all these stupid acorns, (said Arya.) Nice, though. A nice oak tree. [...] You even smell nice for a change.
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We'll need to make a litter to carry him, said Osha. No use, said Luwin. I'm dying, woman. You can't, said Rickon angrily. No you can't. Beside him, Shaggydog bared his teeth and growled. The maester smiled. Hush now, child, I'm much older than you. I can . . . die as I please.
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He was no dragon, Dany thought, curiously calm. Fire cannot kill a dragon
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Nothing bores me more than books where you read two pages and you know exactly how it's going to come out. I want twists and turns that surprise me, characters that have a difficult time and that I don't know if they're going to live or die.
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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.
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Light our fire and protect us from the dark, blah blah, light our way and keep us toasty warm, the night is dark and full of terrors, save us from the scary things, and blah blah blah some more.
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Chaos isn’t a pit. Chaos is a ladder. Many who try to climb it fail and never get to try again. The fall breaks them. And some are given a chance to climb, but they refuse. They cling to the realm, or the gods, or love. Illusions. Only the ladder is real. The climb is all there is.
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A hedge knight must hold tight to his pride. Without it, he was no more than a sellsword
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All dwarfs may be bastards yet not all bastards are dwarfs.
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