“I hate this Wall,” she said in a low angry voice. “Can you feel how cold it is?” “It’s made of ice,” Jon pointed out. “You know nothing, Jon Snow. This wall is made o’ blood.” […] It was near midnight before Jon reached the top. The stars were out again, and Ygritte was trembling from the climb. “I almost fell,” she said, with tears in her eyes. “Twice. Thrice. The Wall was trying t’ shake me off, I could feel it.” one of the tears broke free and trickled slowly down her cheek. “The worst is behind us.” Jon tried to sound confident. “Don’t be frightened.” He tried to put an arm around her. Ygritte slammed the heel of her hand into his chest, so hard it stung even through his layers of wool, mail, and boiled leather. “I wasn’t frightened.”
I’ve heard a great deal about you, Fa Mulan. You stole your father’s armor, ran away from home, impersonated a soldier, deceived your commanding officer, dishonored the Chinese Army, destroyed my palace, and… you have saved us all
"Ser Jaime?" Even in soiled pink satin and torn lace, Brienne looked more like a man in a gown than a proper woman. "I am grateful, but… you were well away. Why come back?" A dozen quips came to mind, each crueler than the one before, but Jaime only shrugged. “I d r e a m e d o f y o u," he said.