“When I was a boy, I dreamt that I could fly, he announces. When I woke, I couldn't... or so the maester said. But what if he lied?What do you mean?Perhaps we can fly. All of us. How will we ever know unless we leap from some tall tower? No man ever truly knows what he can do unless he dares to leap.There is the window. Leap. What do you want?The world.”

“The choice is yours, brother. Live a thrall or die a king. Do you dare to fly? Unless you take the leap, you’ll never know." - Euron Greyjoy”

“Not cry. Fly.“I can’t fly,” Bran said. “I can’t, I can’t…”How do you know? Have you ever tried?The voice was high and thin. Bran looked around to see where it was coming from. A crow was spiraling down with him, just out of touch, following him as he fell. “Help me,” he said.I’m trying, the crow replied…The crow took to the air and flapped around Bran’s hand.“You have wings,” Bran pointed out.Maybe you do too.Bran felt along his shoulders, groping for feathers.There are different kinds of wings, the crow said…Bran was falling faster than ever. The grey mists howled around him as he plunged toward the earth below. “What are you doing to me?” he asked the crow, tearful.Teaching you how to fly.“I can’t fly!”You’re flying right now.“I’m falling!”Every flight begins with a fall, the crow said. Look down.”

“Jaime," Brienne whispered, so faintly he thought he was dreaming it. "Jaime, what are you doing?""Dying," he whispered back."No," she said, "no, you must live."He wanted to laugh. "Stop telling me what to do, wench. I'll die if it pleases me.""Are you so craven?"The words shocked him. He was Jaime Lannister, a knight of the Kingsguard, he was the Kingslayer. No man had ever called him craven. Other things they called him, yes; oathbreaker, liar, murderer. They said he was cruel, treacherous, reckless. But never craven. "What else can I do, but die?""Live," she said, "live, and fight, and take revenge."Craven, Jaime thought.... Can it be? They took my sword hand. Was that all I was, a sword hand? Gods be good, is it true?The wench had the right of it. He could not die.”

“When a man was hurt you took him to the maester, but what could you do when your maester was hurt?”

“It seemed as he had been falling for years. Fly, a voice whispered in the darkness, but Bran did not know how to fly, so all he could do was fall.”

“When you know what a man wants you know who he is, and how to move him.”