A mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone, if it is to keep its edge.

Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armour yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you. Bran thought about it. 'Can a man still be brave if he's afraid?' 'That is the only time a man can be brave,' his father told him. Winter is coming. Fear cuts deeper than swords. When you play a game of thrones you win or you die. The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die. What is honor compared to a woman's love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms . . . or the memory of a brother's smile? Wind and words. Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy. Most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it. Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word. Death is so terribly final, while life is full of possibilities. And I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples and bastards and broken things. The things we love destroy us every time, lad. Remember that. it is one thing to be clever and another to be wise.

Life is not a song, sweetling. Someday you may learn that, to your sorrow. Nothing burns like the cold. Give me honorable enemies rather than ambitious ones, and I'll sleep more easily by night. If I look back I am lost. Oh, my sweet summer child," Old Nan said quietly, "what do you know of fear? Fear is for the winter, my little lord, when the snows fall a hundred feet deep and the ice wind comes howling out of the north. Fear is for the long night, when the sun hides its face for years at a time, and little children are born and live and die all in darkness while the direwolves grow gaunt and hungry, and the white walkers move through the woods When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. Different roads sometimes lead to the same castle. The common people pray for rain, healthy children and a summer that never ends. It is no matter to them if the high lords play their game of thrones, so long as they are left in peace. Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy. Why is it that when one man builds a wall, the next man immediately needs to know what's on the other side? I swear to you, sitting a throne is a thousand times harder than winning one.

Summer will end soon enough, and childhood as well. What do we say to the Lord of Death?" "Not today. Every flight begins with a fall. You are your mother's trueborn son of Lannister." "Am I?" the dwarf replied, sardonic. "Do tell my lord father. My mother died birthing me, and he's never been sure." "I don't even know who my mother was," Jon said. "Some woman, no doubt. Most of them are." He favored Jon with a rueful grin. "Remember this, boy. All dwarfs may be bastards, yet not all bastards need be dwarfs." And with that he turned and sauntered back into the feast, whistling a tune. When he opened the door, the light from within threw his shadow clear across the yard, and for just a moment Tyrion Lannister stood tall as a king. A craven can be as brave as any man, when there is nothing to fear. And we all do our duty, when there is no cost to it. How easy it seems then, to walk the path of honor. Yet soon or late in every man's life comes a day when it is not easy, a day when he must choose. If a man paints a target on his chest, he should expect that sooner or later someone will loose an arrow on him. The High Septon once told me that as we sin, so do we suffer. If that's true, Lord Eddard, tell me . . . why is it always the innocents who suffer most, when you high lords play your game of thrones? Dont call me Lord Snow. The dwarf lifted an eyebrow. Would you rather be called the Imp?

Let them see that their words can cut you and youll never be free of the mockery. If they want to give you a name take it make it your own. Then they cant hurt you with it anymore. Laughter is poison to fear. There is no creature on earth half so terrifying as a truly just man. Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man's nature. A lord must learn that sometimes words can accomplish what swords cannot. ...How would you like to die, Tyrion son of Tywin?" "In my own bed, with a belly full of wine and a maiden's mouth around my cock, at the age of eighty," he replied. All that Syrio Forel had taught her went racing through her head. Swift as a deer. Quiet as shadow. Fear cuts deeper than swords. Quick as a snake. Calm as still water. Fear cuts deeper than swords. Strong as a bear. Fierce as a wolverine. Fear cuts deeper than swords. Then man who fears losing has already lost. Opening your eyes is all that is needing. The heart lies and the head plays tricks with us, but the eyes see true. Look with your eyes. Hear with your ears. Taste with your mouth. Smell with your nose. Feel with your skin. Then comes the thinking, afterward, and in that way knowing the truth. You can't hammer tin into iron, no matter how hard you beat it, but that doesn't mean it's useless. A Lannister always pays his debts. The world was full of cravens who pretended to be heroes; it took a queer sort of courage to admit to cowardice... They say it grows so cold up here in winter that a mans laughter freezes in his throat and chokes him to death, Ned said evenly. Perhaps that is why the Starks have so little humor.