Dead rats don't squeak.

The line is a blunt, underworld-style maxim: once a potential informant or troublemaker is eliminated, they can no longer “squeak” (complain, testify, betray). Framed as a proverb, it reduces moral complexity to a cold calculus of control—silence is secured not by persuasion but by finality. In Martin’s fiction, such phrasing fits the hard pragmatism of characters who treat violence as a tool of governance and survival, and it underscores a recurring theme in his work: power often depends on managing narratives and witnesses as much as winning battles.