Levi

“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.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Storm of Swords

“I have lived a thousand lives and I’ve loved a thousand loves. I’ve walked on distant worlds and seen the end of time. Because I read.”
― George R.R. Martin

“Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end.”
― George R.R. Martin

“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Dance with Dragons