Gods be good, why would any man ever want to be king? When everyone was shouting King in the North, King in the North, I told myself … swore to myself … that I would be a good king, as honorable as Father, strong, just, loyal to my friends and brave when I faced my enemies … now I can’t even tell one from the other. [x]
"Oh, my sweet summer child," Old Nan said quietly, "what do you know of fear? Fear is for the winter, my little lord, when the snows fall a hundred feet deep and the ice wind comes howling out of the north. Fear is for the long night, when the sun hides its face for years at a time, and little children are born and live and die all in darkness while the direwolves grow gaunt and hungry, and the white walkers move through the woods."