“A grey man,” she said. “Neither white nor black, but partaking of both. Is that what you are, Ser Davos?”“What if I am? It seems to me that most men are grey.”“If half of an onion is black with rot, it is a rotten onion. A man is good, or he is evil.”

“If half an onion is black with rot, it is a rotten onion. A man is good or he is evil.”

“Ned was clad in a white linen doublet with the direwolf of Stark on the breast; his black wool cloak was fastened at the collar by his silver hand of office. Black and white and grey, all the shades of truth.”

“Lord Rodrik Harlaw was neither fat nor slim; neither tall nor short; neither ugly nor handsome. His hair was brown, as were his eyes, though the short, neat beard he favored had gone grey. All in all, he was an ordinary man, distinguished only by his love of written words.”

“You esteem this Penrose more than you do my lords bannermen. Why?”“He keeps faith.”“A misplaced faith in a dead usurper.”“Yes,” Davos admitted, “but still, he keeps faith.”“As those behind us do not?”Davos had come too far with Stannis to play coy now. “Last year they were Robert’s men. A moon ago they were Renly’s. This morning they are yours. Whose will they be on the morrow?”And Stannis laughed. A sudden gust, rough and full of scorn. “I told you, Melisandre,” he said to the red woman, “my Onion Knight tells me the truth.”“I see you know him well, Your Grace,” the red woman said.“Davos, I have missed you sorely,” the king said. “Aye, I have a tail of traitors, your nose does not deceive you. My lords bannermen are inconstant even in their treasons. I need them, but you should know how it sickens me to pardon such as these when I have punished better men for lesser crimes. You have every right to reproach me, Ser Davos.”“You reproach yourself more than I ever could, Your Grace. You must have these great lords to win your throne—”“Fingers and all, it seems.” Stannis smiled grimly.”

“I admire Tolkien greatly. His books had enormous influence on me. And the trope that he sort of established—the idea of the Dark Lord and his Evil Minions—in the hands of lesser writers over the years and decades has not served the genre well. It has been beaten to death. The battle of good and evil is a great subject for any book and certainly for a fantasy book, but I think ultimately the battle between good and evil is weighed within the individual human heart and not necessarily between an army of people dressed in white and an army of people dressed in black. When I look at the world, I see that most real living breathing human beings are grey.”

“No mortal man could frighten him, no more than the darkness could, nor the bones of his soul, the grey and grisly bones of his soul.”