George R.R. Martin

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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 dire-wolves grow gaunt and hungry, and the white walkers move through the woods.

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