“Silver’s sweet and gold’s our mother, but once you’re dead they’re worth less than that last shit you take as you lie dying.”

“They’re both bungholes who think they’re too noble to shit,”

“Half-truths are worth more than outright lies.”

“The singers make much of kings who valiantly die in battle, but your life is worth more than a sword. To me at least, who gave it to you.”

“A hound will die for you, but never lie to you. And he'll look you straight in the face.”

“Jon Snow, is this a proper castle now? Not just a tower?”“It is.” Jon took her hand.“Good,” she whispered. “I wanted t’ see one proper castle, before … before I …”“You’ll see hundred castles. The battle’s done. Maester Aemon will see to you. You’re kissed by fire, remember? Lucky. It will take more than an arrow to kill you. Aemon will draw it out and patch you up, and we’ll get milk of the poppy for the pain.”She just smiled at that. “D’you remember that cave? We should have stayed in that cave. I told you so.”“We’ll go back to the cave,” he said.” You’re not going to die, Ygritte. You’re not.”“Oh.” Ygritte cupped his cheek with her hand. “You know nothing, Jon Snow,” she sighed, dying.”

“Fighting is better than this waiting,” Brienne said. “You don’t feel so helpless when you fight. You have a sword and a horse, sometimes an axe. When you’re armored it’s hard for anyone to hurt you.”“Knights die in battle,” Catelyn reminded her.Brienne looked at her with those blue and beautiful eyes. “As ladies die in childbed. No one sings songs about them.”