A Game of Thrones, Tyrion III
“When I was a boy, it was said that a long summer always meant a long winter to come. This summer has lasted nine years, Tyrion, and a tenth will soon be upon us. Think on that.”
“When I was a boy,” Tyrion replied, “my wet nurse told me that one day, if men were good, the gods would give the world a summer without ending. Perhaps we’ve been better than we thought, and the Great Summer is finally at hand.” He grinned.
The Lord Commander did not seem amused. “You are not fool enough to believe that, my lord.
“Already the days grow shorter. There can be no mistake, Aemon has had letters from the Citadel, findings in accord with his own.
“The end of summer stares us in the face.”

















