It wasn't fair. Sansa had everything. Sansa was two years older; maybe by the time Arya had been born, there had been nothing left. Often it felt that way. Sansa could sew and dance and sing. She wrote poetry. She knew how to dress. She played the high harp and the bells. Worse, she was beautiful.

​-A Game of Thrones

Ser Loras was the youngest son of Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden and Warden of the South. At sixteen, he was the youngest rider on the field, yet he had unhorsed three knights of the Kingsguard that morning in his first three jousts. Sansa had never seen anyone so beautiful. His plate was intricately fashioned and enamelled as a bouquet of a thousand different flowers, and his snow-white stallion was draped in a blanket of red and white roses.

​-A Game of Thrones

Many called her beautiful. She was not beautiful. She was red, and terrible, and red.

​-A Clash of Kings

"Nothing happens in this city without Varys knowing. Oftimes he knows about it before it happens. He has informants everywhere. His little birds, he calls them."

​-A Game of Thrones

Dario Naharis was flamboyant even for a Tyroshi.

-A Storm of Swords

Just ahead, the elk wove between the snowdrifts with his head down, his huge rack of antlers crusted with ice. The ranger sat astride his broad back, grim and silent.
Coldhands was the name that the fat boy Sam had given him, for though the ranger's face was pale, his hands were black and hard as iron, and cold as iron too.

​-A Dance of Dragons

Many were Dothraki horselords, big men with red-brown skin, their drooping mustachios bound in metal rings, their black hair oiled and braided and hung with bells.

​-A Game of Thrones

Behind the drum marched Brazen Beasts four abreast. Some carried cudgels, others staves; all wore pleated skirts, leathern sandals, and patchwork cloaks sewn from squares of many colours to echo the many-coloured bricks of Meereen. Their masks gleamed in the sun: boars and bulls, hawks and herons, lions and tigers and bears, fork-tongued serpents and hideous basilisks.

​-A Dance of Dragons

"North of the Wall, things are different. That's where the children went, and the giants, and other old races."

​-A Game of Thrones

"Bran, the children of the forest have been dead and gone thousands of years. All that is left of them are the faces in the trees."

-A Game of Thrones