“Noble words, but words were easy. Deeds were hard. - Brienne”

“Words are wind, Brienne told herself. They cannot hurt you. Let them wash over you.”

“Oysters, clams, and cockles were cat's magic words, and like all good magic words they could take her almost anywhere.”

“We were king’s men, knights, and heroes . . . but some knights are dark and full of terror, my lady. War makes monsters of us all.”“Are you saying you are monsters?”“I am saying we are human. You are not the only one with wounds, Lady Brienne”

“Her name is Brienne," Jaime said. "Brienne, the maid of Tarth. You are still maiden, I hope?"Her broad homely face turned red. "Yes.""Oh, good," Jaime said. "I only rescue maidens.”

“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.”

“Ser Cleos raised a shout. When Jaime looked up, Brienne was lumbering along the clifftop well ahead of them, having cut across a finger of land while they were following the bend in the river. She threw herself off the rock, and looked almost graceful as she folded into a dive. It would have been ungracious to hope that she would smash her head on a stone.”