Surcoat Quotes & Sayings

His cloak was Lannister crimson, but his surcoat showed the ten purple mullets of his own House arrayed upon a yellow field. — George R R Martin

Iraq has been successfully demonized as if everybody who lives there is Saddam Hussein. In the build-up to this attack on Iraq, journalists have almost universally excluded the prospect of civilian deaths, the numbers of people who would die, because those people don't matter. — John Pilger

The greatest difficulty is that men do not think enough of themselves, do not consider what it is that they are sacrificing when they follow in a herd, or when they cater for their establishment. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

All I can do now is carry on with my life. — Amanda Laneley

Once and for all, I did not use steroids or any other illegal substance. — Mark McGwire

It's easier to be God than to see God. — Stephen Gaskin

Draven stood below the gate disrobing. Slowly, and piece by piece, he removed his sword, his surcoat, his mail armor, and then his padded aketon until there was nothing left but the wealth of tawny skin gleaming in the sunlight.
Stark naked, he walked toward the gate.
Emily bit back her tears as she understood. You asked me for proof of his feelings, Majesty. You now have it! — Kinley MacGregor

He dragged his lips up the soft skin of her neck and gently nipped her ear lobe, sipping on the soft flesh. Her hands splayed against his chest.
Expecting a shove, his senses careened when her fingers fisted his surcoat. Their ragged breath overloud in the forest, he eased his face away, nose rubbing against her jaw on his retreat, and sought her eyes. Hers darkened and - Lord help him - held no censure, only interest.
He stepped back. — Angela Quarles

Bones, Catelyn thought. This is not Ned, this is not the man I loved, the father of my children. His hands were clasped together over his chest, skeletal fingers curled about the
hilt of some longsword, but they were not Ned's hands, so strong and full of life. They had dressed the bones in Ned's surcoat, the fine white velvet with the direwolf badge over the
heart, but nothing remained of the warm flesh that had pillowed her head so many
nights, the arms that had held her. — George R R Martin