Not all men are meant to dance with dragons.
Ser Barristan Selmy (Page 1003)
The stories I liked the most in this novel were those about Jon and Daenerys, not because of what happens (that is not so much for a while) but because both of them are two kids on whose shoulders was put the weight of the world and with hard work and pain they're trying to do the right thing. Also, I loved the Theon's story. I still dislike the character, but in this book he goes through a lot of bad things, and made such an evolution that I loved his chapters. If this book had been half as long, I would have liked it more, it would have been more engaging from the beginning to the end and I'd have given him 5 stars, no doubts. The problem is that despite the fact that this book irritated me for about 500 pages, I can't give it less than four stars, and even if it'll be twice as long I can't wait to read the next (and I know that unfortunately I'll have to wait a lot of time!!!).
The night was rank with the smell of man.
"I used to think that it got cold up in the Dornish Marches. What did I know?"
Nothing, thought jon Snow, the same as me.
At the Wall
Jon: It always cold on the Wall.
Melisandre: You think so?
Jon: I know so, my lady.
Melisandre: Than you know nothing, Jon Snow.
"This is no game we're playing for your amusement."
Of course it is, thought Tyrion. The game of thrones.
A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.
Things can change quickly in the game of thrones.
Edd l'Addolorato: The air is so cold it hurts to breathe. I would stop, but that would hurt worse. [...] This is going to end badly.
Jon: You say that of everything.
Edd l'Addolorato: Aye, m'lord. Usually I'm right.
Jon: We have a good day for this, it would seem. A bright day, warm and sunny.
Edd l'Addolorato: The Wall will weep. And winter almost on us. It's unnatural, m'lord. A bad sign, you ask me.
Jon: And if it were to snow?
Edd l'Addolorato: A worse sign.
Jon: What sort of weather would you prefer?
Edd l'Addolorato: The sort they keep indoors.
The Drowned God did not answer. He seldom did. That was the trouble with gods.