“Sweet it was, sweet and gone too soon. Dawn came cruel, a dagger of light.”

“As she slept amidst the rolling grasslands, Catelyn dreamt that Bran was shole again, that Arya and Sansa held hands, that Rickon was still a babe at her breast. Robb, crownless, played with a wooden sword, and when all were safe asleep, she found Ned in her bed, smiling.Sweet it was, sweet and gone too soon. Dawn came cruel, a dagger of light. She woke aching and alone and weary; weary of riding, weary of hurting, weary of duty. I want to weep, she thought, I want to be comforted. I'm so tired of being strong. I want to be foolish and frightened for once. Just for a small while, that's all . . . a day . . . an hour . . .”

“Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.”

“But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,Making a famine where abundance lies,Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.”

“This is what keeps ghosts locked to the earth, that sweet burning need for something they loved and gave up too soon.”

“The next morning dawned bright and sweet, like ribbon candy.”