History Quotes / ASongOfIceAndFire

-> '''Daenerys:''' There is a reason. A dragon is no slave. ''[[WhipItGood *CRACK*]]''

->'''Daenerys:'''Cheeks like iron. All I do is sit.

-> You are the blood of the dragon. You can make a hat.

-> '''Daenerys:''' You are in difficulty.
-> '''Kraznys mo Nakloz:''' He will not come.
-> '''Daenerys:''' There is a reason. A dragon is no slave. ''[[WhipItGood *CRACK*]]''

->'''GodricBorell:'''At the dawn of Robert's Rebellion. The Mad King had sent to the Eyrie for Stark's head, but Jon Arryn sent him back defiance. Gulltown stayed loyal to the throne, though. To get home and call his banners, Stark had to cross the mountains to the Fingers and find a fisherman to carry him across the Bite. A storm caught them on the way. The fisherman drowned, but his daughter got Stark to the Sisters before the boat went down. They say he left her with a bag of silver and a bastard in her belly. Jon Snow, she named him, after Arryn.
"Be that as it may. My father sat where I sit now when Lord Eddard came to Sisterton. Our maester urged us to send Stark's head to Aerys, to prove our loyalty. It would have meant a rich reward. The Mad King was open-handed with them as pleased him. By then we knew that Jon Arryn had taken Gulltown, though. Robert was the first man to gain the wall, and slew Marq Grafton with his own hand. 'This Baratheon is fearless,' I said. 'He fights the way a king should fight.' Our maester chuckled at me and told us that Prince Rhaegar was certain to defeat this rebel. That was when Stark said, 'In this world only winter is certain. We may lose our heads, it's true … but what if we prevail?' My father sent him on his way with his head still on his shoulders. 'If you lose,' he told Lord Eddard, 'you were never here.' "
"No more than I was," said Davos Seaworth.

->'''Catelyn:''' This one will never bend. Break, perhaps, but not bend.

->'''Thorne:''' Who better to command the black, than he who commanded the gold?\\
'''Stannis:''' Anyone, I should think, even the cook.

-> '''Rodrik''': Balon was mad, Aeron madder and Euron maddest of them all.

->Gods? There are no "gods", young bravo. There is only one God, and his name is Death -- Him of Many Faces. And there is only one prayer that one says to him -- "Not Today".

->'''Stannis:''' I defeated [[spoiler:your uncle]] Victarion and his Iron Fleet off Fair Isle, the first time [[spoiler:your father]] crowned himself. I held Storm's End against the power of the Reach for a year, and took Dragonstone from the Targaryens. [[spoiler:I smashed Mance Rayder at the Wall, though he had twenty times my numbers.]] Tell me, [[spoiler:turncloak,]] what battles has the [[spoiler:Bastard of Bolton]] ever won that I should fear him?

! The Red Woman

-> Blood and Fire.

'''Tyrion''' Tyrion snorted. 'Unwary? I'm the wariest man who ever lived, you helped see to that.'"

'''Tyrion:''' ...and cut off poor Tyrion's nose

'''Tyrion''' Tyrion snorted. ''Unwary? I'm the wariest man who ever lived, you helped see to that.''

'''Tyrion''' Tyrion snorted. ''Unwary? I'm the wariest man who ever lived, you helped see to that.''\\

->Joff would have killed me as well, once he came into his power. For the crime of being short and ugly, of which I am so conspicuously guilty.

-->--

'''Tyrion''' Tyrion snorted. ''Unwary? I'm the wariest man who ever lived, you helped see to that.\\

! The Red Woman
-> The night is dark, and full of terrors.

'''Ilyn Payne:''' ''(opens his mouth and hisses and while rattling whatever is left of his tongue)''
'''Jaime:''' ''(realizing that Payne is laughing at him)'' {{You talk too much}}.

-->--

->You've seen our numbers, Edmure. You’ve seen the ladders, the towers, the trebuchets, the rams. If I speak the command, my coz will bridge your moat and break your gate. Hundreds will die, most of them your own. Your former bannermen will make up the first wave of attackers, so you’ll start your day by killing the fathers and brothers of men who died for you at the Twins. The second wave will be Freys, I have no lack of those. My westermen will follow when your archers are short of arrows and your knights so weary they can hardly lift their blades. When the castle falls, all those inside will be put to the sword. Your herds will be butchered, your godswood will be felled, your keeps and towers will burn. I’ll pull your walls down, and divert the Tumblestone over the ruins. By the time I’m done no man will ever know that a castle once stood here. Your wife may whelp before that. You’ll want your child, I expect. I’ll send him to you when he’s born. With a trebuchet.

->'''Pycell:''' Ser Jaime, I have seen terrible things in my time, Wars, battles, murders most foul... I was a boy in Oldtown when the grey plague took half the city and three-quarters of the Citadel. Lord Hightower burned every ship in port, closed the gates, and commanded his guards to slay all those who tried to flee, be they men, women, or babes in arms. They killed him when the plague had run its course. On the very day he reopened the port, they dragged him from his horse and slit his throat, and his young son’s as well. To this day the ignorant in Oldtown will spit at the sound of his name, but Quenton Hightower did what was needed. Your father was that sort of man as well. A man who did what was needed.

'''Arya:''' Did they kill the slaves?\\

'''Ser Arthur:''' And now it begins.\\
'''Ned:''' ''(with genuine sadness)'' No. Now it ends.

->"There is much I do not understand, I have never pretended elsewise. I know the seas and rivers, the shapes of the coast, where the rocks and shoals lie. I know hidden coves where a boat can land unseen and I know a king protects his people or he is no king at all."

--> Promise me, Ned.

->'''Septa Lemore:''' You have a gift for making men smile, you should thank the Father Above. He gives gifts to all his children.

->'''Galyeon of Cuy:''' ''(singing) The dark lord assembled his legions, they gathered around him like crows. And thirsty for blood they boarded their ships...''

-> ''[To Tyrion]'' You ask that? You, who killed your mother to come into the world? You are an ill-made, devious, disobedient, spiteful little creature full of envy, lust, and low cunning. Men’s laws give you the right to bear my name and display my colors, since I cannot prove that you are not mine. To teach me humility, the gods have condemned me to watch you waddle about wearing that proud lion that was my father’s sigil and his father’s before him. But neither gods nor men shall ever compel me to let you turn Casterly Rock into your whorehouse.

-> When your enemies defy you, you must serve them steel and fire. When they go to their knees, however, you must help them back to their feet. Elsewise no man will ever bend the knee to you. And any man who must say ‘I am the king’ is no true king at all.

-> You have a certain cunning, Tyrion, but the plain truth is you talk too much. That loose tongue of yours will be your undoing.

-> '''Kevan''': Tywin seems a hard man to you, I know, but he is no harder than he’s had to be. Our own father was gentle and amiable, but so weak his bannermen mocked him in their cups. Some saw fit to defy him openly. Other lords borrowed our gold and never troubled to repay it. At court they japed of toothless lions. Even his mistress stole from him. A woman scarcely one step above a whore, and she helped herself to my mother’s jewels! It fell to Tywin to restore House Lannister to its proper place just as it fell to him to rule this realm, when he was no more than twenty. He bore that heavy burden for twenty years, and all it earned him was a mad king’s envy. Instead of the honor he deserved, he was made to suffer slights beyond count, yet he gave the Seven Kingdoms peace, plenty, and justice. He is a just man. You would be wise to trust him.

-> '''Pycell''': Ser Jaime, I have seen terrible things in my time, Wars, battles, murders most foul... I was a boy in Oldtown when the grey plague took half the city and three-quarters of the Citadel. Lord Hightower burned every ship in port, closed the gates, and commanded his guards to slay all those who tried to flee, be they men, women, or babes in arms. They killed him when the plague had run its course. On the very day he reopened the port, they dragged him from his horse and slit his throat, and his young son’s as well. To this day the ignorant in Oldtown will spit at the sound of his name, but Quenton Hightower did what was needed. Your father was that sort of man as well. A man who did what was needed.

-> [[spoiler:''[Final Words]'']] Wherever whores go.

!! House Stark

! Ned Stark
->The blood of the First Men still flows in the veins of the Starks, and we hold to the belief that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you would take a man’s life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die.

! Arya Stark

-> '''The Priest in Black and White''': Men may whisper of the Faceless Men of Braavos, but we are older than the Secret City. Before the Titan rose, before the Unmasking of Uthero, before the Founding, we were. We have flowered in Braavos amongst these northern fogs, but we first took root in Valyria, amongst the wretched slaves who toiled in the deep mines beneath the Fourteen Flames that lit the Freehold’s nights of old. Most mines are dank and chilly places, cut from cold dead stone, but the Fourteen Flames were living mountains with veins of molten rock and hearts of fire. So the mines of old Valyria were always hot, and they grew hotter as the shafts were driven deeper, ever deeper. The slaves toiled in an oven. The rocks around them were too hot to touch. The air stank of brimstone and would sear their lungs as they breathed it. The soles of their feet would burn and blister, even through the thickest sandals. Sometimes, when they broke through a wall in search of gold, they would find steam instead, or boiling water, or molten rock. Certain shafts were cut so low that the slaves could not stand upright, but had to crawl or bend. And there were wyrms in that red darkness too.
-> '''Arya''': Earthworms?
-> '''The Priest''': Firewyrms. Some say they are akin to dragons, for wyrms breathe fire too. Instead of soaring through the sky, they bore through stone and soil. If the old tales can be believed, there were wyrms amongst the Fourteen Flames even before the dragons came. The young ones are no larger than that skinny arm of yours, but they can grow to monstrous size and have no love for men.
-> '''Arya''': Did they kill the slaves?
-> '''The Priest''': Burnt and blackened corpses were oft found in shafts where the rocks were cracked or full of holes. Yet still the mines drove deeper. Slaves perished by the score, but their masters did not care. Red gold and yellow gold and silver were reckoned to be more precious than the lives of slaves, for slaves were cheap in the old Freehold. During war, the Valyrians took them by the thousands. In times of peace they bred them, though only the worst were sent down to die in the red darkness.
-> '''Arya''': Didn't the slaves rise up and fight?
-> '''The Priest''': Some did. Revolts were common in the mines, but few accomplished much. The dragonlords of the old Freehold were strong in sorcery, and lesser men defied them at their peril. The first Faceless Man was one who did.
-> '''Arya''': Who was he?
-> '''The Priest''': No one. Some say he was a slave himself. Others insist he was a freeholder's son, born of noble stock. Some will even tell you he was an overseer who took pity on his charges. The truth is, no one knows. Whoever he was, he moved amongst the slaves and would hear them at their prayers. Men of a hundred different nations labored in the mines, and each prayed to his own god in his own tongue, yet all were praying for the same thing. It was release they asked for, an end to pain. A small thing, and simple. Yet their gods made no answer, and their suffering went on. ''Are their gods all deaf?'' he wondered... until a realization came upon him, one night in the red darkness. All gods have their instruments, men and women who serve them and help to work their will on earth. The slaves were not crying out to a hundred different gods, as it seemed, but to one god with a hundred different faces... and ''he'' was that god's instrument. That very night he chose the most wretched of the slaves, the one who had prayed most earnestly for release, and freed him from his bondage. The first gift had been given.

-> '''The Priest in Black and White''': The Nine Free Cities are the daughters of Valyria that was, but Braavos is the bastard child who ran away from home. We are a mongrel folk, the sons of slaves and whores and thieves. Our forebears came from half a hundred lands to this place of refuge, to escape the dragonlords who had enslaved them. Half a hundred gods came with them, but there is one god all of them shared in common.
-> '''Arya''': Him of Many Faces.
-> '''The Priest''': And many names. In Qohor he is the Black Goat, in Yi Ti the Lion of Night, in Westeros the Stranger. All men must bow to him in the end, no matter if they worship the Seven or the Lord of Light, the Moon Mother or the Drowned God or the Great Shepherd. All mankind belongs to him... else somewhere in the world would be a folk who lived forever. Do you know of any folk who live forever?
-> '''Arya''': No. All men must die.

! Syrio Forel
-> Just so.

-> Gods? There are no 'gods', young bravo. There is only one God, and his name is Death - Him of Many Faces. And there is only one prayer that one says to him - 'Not Today'.

-> The First Sword of Braavos does not run!

! Magister Illyrio
-> In Pentos we have a prince, my friend. He presides at ball and feast and rides about the city in a palanquin of ivory and gold. Three heralds go before him with the golden scales of trade, the iron sword of war, and the silver scourge of justice. On the first day of each new year he must deflower the maid of the fields and the maid of the seas. Yet should a crop fail or a war be lost, we cut his throat to appease the gods and choose a new prince from amongst the forty families.

-> Daenerys was half a child when she came to me, yet fairer even than my second wife, so lovely I was tempted to claim her for myself. Such a fearful, furtive thing, however, I knew I should get no joy from coupling with her. Instead I summoned a bed-warmer and fucked her vigorously until the madness passed. If truth be told, I did not think Daenerys would survive for long amongst the horselords.

-> You Westerosi are all the same. You sew some beast upon a scrap of silk, and suddenly you are all lions or dragons or eagles. I can take you to a real lion, my little friend. The prince keeps a pride in his menagerie. Would you like to share a cage with them?

! Jorah Mormont

! Stannis Baratheon

-> Kings have no friends, only subjects and enemies.

-> Robert could piss in a cup and men would call it wine, but I offer them pure cold water and they squint in suspicion and mutter to each other about how queer it tastes.

-> The seven have never brought me so much as a sparrow. It is time I tried a new hawk, Davos. A red hawk.

-> “I am not without mercy,” ''thundered he who was notoriously without mercy.''

-> It is law. Law, Davos. Not cruelty.

-> '''Catelyn''': This one will never bend. Break, perhaps, but not bend.

-> '''Thorne''': Who better to command the black, than he who commanded the gold?

-> '''Stannis''': Anyone, I should think, even the cook.

-> '''Renly''': "Born amidst salt and smoke. Is he a ham?"

-> '''Stannis''': The Iron Throne is mine by rights. All those who deny that are my foes.
-> '''Renly''': The whole of the realm denies it, brother, Old men deny it with their death rattle, and unborn children deny it in their mothers’ wombs. They deny it in Dorne and they deny it on the Wall. No one wants you for their king. Sorry.

-> '''Stannis''': I defeated [[spoiler:your uncle]] Victarion and his Iron Fleet off Fair Isle, the first time [[spoiler:your father]] crowned himself. I held Storm's End against the power of the Reach for a year, and took Dragonstone from the Targaryens. [[spoiler:I smashed Mance Rayder at the Wall, though he had twenty times my numbers.]] Tell me, [[spoiler:turncloak,]] what battles has the [[spoiler:Bastard of Bolton]] ever won that I should fear him?

-->''"And who are you", the proud lord said,\\

!! House Lannister

-> And who are you, the proud lord said,
-> That I must bow so low?
-> Only a cat of a different coat,
-> That's all the truth I know.
-> In a coat of gold or a coat of red,
-> A lion still has claws,
-> And mine are long and sharp, my lord,
-> As long and sharp as yours.
-> And so he spoke, and so he spoke,
-> That lord of Castamere,
-> But now the rains weep o'er his hall,
-> With no one there to hear.
-> Yes now the rains weep o'er his hall,
-> And not a soul to hear.

! Cersei Lannister

-> '''Cersei''': Do you know why Varys is so dangerous?
-> '''Tyrion''': Are we playing at riddles now? No.
-> '''Cersei''': He doesn’t have a cock.
-> '''Tyrion''': Neither do you.” ''[And don’t you just hate that, Cersei?]''
-> '''Cersei''': Perhaps I’m dangerous too. You, on the other hand, are as big a fool as every other man. That worm between your legs does half your thinking.

! Jaime Lannister

-> '''Catelyn''': Your crimes will have earned you a place of torment in the deepest of the seven hells, if the gods are just.
-> '''Jaime''': What gods are those, Lady Catelyn? The trees your husband prayed to? How well did they serve him when my sister took his head off? ''[Chuckles]'' If there are gods, why is the world so full of pain and injustice?
-> '''Catelyn''': Because of men like you.
-> '''Jaime''': There are no men like me. There is only me.

-> '''Jaime''': I was the youngest man ever to wear the white cloak.
-> '''Catelyn''': And the youngest to betray all it stood for, Kingslayer.

-> '''Chief Armorer''': Men shall name you Goldenhand from this day forth, my lord.
-> '''Jaime''': ''He was wrong. I shall be the Kingslayer till I die.''

-> '''Jaime''': That was Raymun Darry's bedchamber. Where King Robert slept, on our return from Winterfell. Ned Stark's daughter had run off after her wolf savaged Joff, you'll recall. My sister wanted the girl to lose a hand. The old penalty, for striking one of the blood royal. Robert told her she was cruel and mad. They fought for half the night... well, Cersei fought, and Robert drank. Past midnight, the queen summoned me inside. The king was passed out snoring on the Myrish carpet. I asked my sister if she wanted me to carry him to bed. She told me I should carry her to bed, and shrugged out of her robe. I took her on Raymun Darry's bed after stepping over Robert. If His Grace had woken I would have killed him there and then. He would not have been the first king to die upon my sword... but you know that story, don't you? As I was fucking her, Cersei cried, 'I want.' I thought that she meant me, but it was the Stark girl that she wanted, maimed or dead. It was only by chance that Stark's own men found the girl before me. If I had come on her first...
-> '''Ilyn Payne''': ''[Opens mouths and hisses and rattles whatever's left of his tongue. Jaime realizes that he is laughing at him.]]''
-> '''Jaime''': You talk too much.

-> You’ve seen our numbers, Edmure. You’ve seen the ladders, the towers, the trebuchets, the rams. If I speak the command, my coz will bridge your moat and break your gate. Hundreds will die, most of them your own. Your former bannermen will make up the first wave of attackers, so you’ll start your day by killing the fathers and brothers of men who died for you at the Twins. The second wave will be Freys, I have no lack of those. My westermen will follow when your archers are short of arrows and your knights so weary they can hardly lift their blades. When the castle falls, all those inside will be put to the sword. Your herds will be butchered, your godswood will be felled, your keeps and towers will burn. I’ll pull your walls down, and divert the Tumblestone over the ruins. By the time I’m done no man will ever know that a castle once stood here. Your wife may whelp before that. You’ll want your child, I expect. I’ll send him to you when he’s born. With a trebuchet.

-->'''Jaime:''' ''[fighting Brienne]'' Not bad at all!
-->'''Brienne:''' For a wench?
-->'''Jaime:''' For a squire, say. A green one. ''[laughs]'' Come on, come on, my sweetling, the music's still playing. Might I have this dance, my lady?

! Tyrion Lannister

-> '''Tyrion''': Let me give you some councel, bastard. Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armour yourself in it and it will never be used to hurt you.
-> '''Jon''': What do you know about being a bastard?
-> '''Tyrion''': All dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes.
-> '''Jon''': You are your mother's true born son of Lannister.
-> '''Tyrion''': Am I? Do tell my lord father. My mother died birthing me, and he's never been sure.
-> '''Jon''': I don't even know who my mother was.
-> '''Tyrion''': Some woman, no doubt. Most of them are. Remember this, boy. All dwarfs may be bastards, yet not all bastards need be dwarfs.

-> I loved a maid as fair as summer, with sunlight in her hair.

-> ''Lord Lefford frowned.'' “I saw that great hairy one today, the one who insisted that he must have two battle-axes, the heavy black steel ones with twin crescent blades.”
-> “Shagga likes to kill with either hand,” ''Tyrion said as a trencher of steaming pork was laid in front of him.''
-> “He still had that wood-axe of his strapped to his back.”
-> “Shagga is of the opinion that three axes are even better than two.” ''Tyrion reached a thumb and forefinger into the salt dish, and sprinkled a healthy pinch over his meat. ''

-> “Bastard!” ''someone screamed at Joffrey,'' “bastard monster.” ''Other voices flung calls of'' “Whore” ''and'' “Brotherfucker” ''at the queen, while Tyrion was pelted with shouts of'' “Freak” ''and ''“Halfman.” ''Mixed in with the abuse, he heard a few cries of ''“Justice” ''and ''“Robb, King Robb, the Young Wolf,” ''of'' “Stannis!” ''and even ''“Renly!”'' From both sides of the street, the crowd surged against the spear shafts while the gold cloaks struggled to hold the line. Stones and dung and fouler things whistled overhead.'' “Feed us!” ''a woman shrieked. ''“Bread!”'' boomed a man behind her. ''“We want bread, bastard!” ''In a heartbeat, a thousand voices took up the chant. King Joffrey and King Robb and King Stannis were forgotten, and King Bread ruled alone. ''

-> “Bread,” ''they clamored.'' “Bread, bread!”

-> '''Tyrion''': What sort of man do you take me for?
-> '''Cersei''': A small and twisted one.

-> Those are brave men. Let’s go kill them.

-> A dead enemy is a joy forever.

-> It all goes back and back, to our mothers and fathers and theirs before them. We are puppets dancing on the strings of those who came before us, and one day our own children will take up our strings and dance on in our steads.

-->--

-> For hands of gold are always cold, but a woman’s hands are warm.

-> "Sansa, is aught wrong?"
---> ''Possibly the stupidest question in the history of Westeros, as Tyrion realized a nano-second after it passed his lips.''

-> ''[Hysterical Laughter]'' Jaime, I am so sorry, but... gods be good, look at the two of us. Handless and Noseless, the Lannister boys.

-> That might have hurt me once, when I still felt pain.

-> They say I'm half a man. What does that make the lot of you?

-> At least he did not dream. He had dreamed enough for one small life. And of such follies: love, justice, friendship, glory. As well dream of being tall.

-> “Wherever whores go,” ''he heard Lord Tywin say once more, [[spoiler:and once more the bowstring'' thrummed.]]

-> "The last word Nurse ever said was, 'No.' The last words he heard were, 'A Lannister always pays his debts.'"

-> '''Septa Lemore''': You have a gift for making men smile, you should thank the Father Above. He gives gifts to all his children.
-> '''Tyrion''': He does. ''[And when I die, please let them bury with me a crossbow, so I can thank the Father Above for his gifts the same way I thanked the father below.]''

-> '''Galyeon of Cuy''': (singing) ''The dark lord assembled his legions, they gathered around him like crows. And thirsty for blood they boarded their ships...''
-> '''Tyrion''': ...and cut off poor Tyrion's nose

-->There are many sorts of outlaws, just as there are many sorts of birds. A sandpiper and a sea eagle both have wings, but they are not the same. The singers love to sing of good men forced to go outside the law to fight some wicked lord, but most outlaws are more like this ravening Hound than they are the lightning lord. They are evil men, driven by greed, soured by malice, despising the gods and caring only for themselves. Broken men are more deserving of our pity, though they may be just as dangerous. Almost all are common-born, simple folk who had never been more than a mile from the house where they were born until the day some lord came round to take them off to war. Poorly shod and poorly clad, they march away beneath his banners, ofttimes with no better arms than a sickle or a sharpened hoe, or a maul they made themselves by lashing a stone to a stick with strips of hide. Brothers march with brothers, sons with fathers, friends with friends. They’ve heard the songs and stories, so they go off with eager hearts, dreaming of the wonders they will see, of the wealth and glory they will win. War seems a fine adventure, the greatest most of them will ever know.
-->Then they get a taste of battle.
-->For some, that one taste is enough to break them. Others go on for years, until they lose count of all the battles they have fought in, but even a man who has survived a hundred fights can break in his hundred-and-first. Brothers watch their brothers die, fathers lose their sons, friends see their friends trying to hold their entrails in after they’ve been gutted by an axe. They see the lord who led them there cut down, and some other lord shouts that they are his now. They take a wound, and when that’s still half-healed they take another. There is never enough to eat, their shoes fall to pieces from the marching, their clothes are torn and rotting, and half of them are shitting in their breeches from drinking bad water.
-->If they want new boots or a warmer cloak or maybe a rusted iron halfhelm, they need to take them from a corpse, and before long they are stealing from the living too, from the smallfolk whose lands they’re fighting in, men very like the men they used to be. They slaughter their sheep and steal their chickens, and from there it’s just a short step to carrying off their daughters too. And one day they look around and realize all their friends and kin are gone, that they are fighting beside strangers beneath a banner that they hardly recognize. They don’t know where they are or how to get back home and the lord they’re fighting for does not know their names, yet here he comes, shouting for them to form up, to make a line with their spears and scythes and sharpened hoes, to stand their ground. And the knights come down on them, faceless men clad all in steel, and the iron thunder of their charge seems to fill the world...
-->And the man breaks.
-->He turns and runs, or crawls off afterward over the corpses of the slain, or steals away in the black of night, and he finds someplace to hide. All thought of home is gone by then, and kings and lords and gods mean less to him than a haunch of spoiled meat that will let him live another day, or a skin of bad wine that might drown his fear for a few hours. The broken man lives from day to day, from meal to meal, more beast than man. Lady Brienne is not wrong. In times like these, the traveler must beware of broken men, and fear them... but he should pity them as well.

--> "There is much I do not understand, I have never pretended elsewise. I know the seas and rivers, the shapes of the coast, where the rocks and shoals lie. I know hidden coves where a boat can land unseen and I know a king protects his people or he is no king at all."

--> "Oberyn wanted vengeance for Elia. Now the three of you want vengeance for him. I have four daughters, I remind you. Your sisters. My Elia is fourteen, almost a woman. Obella is twelve, on the brink of maidenhood. They worship you, as Dorea and Loreza worship them. If you should die, must El and Obella seek vengeance for you, then Dorea and Loree for them? Is that how it goes, round and round forever? I ask again, where does it end? I saw your father die. Here is his killer. Can I take a skull to bed with me, to give me comfort in the night? Will it make me laugh, write me songs, care for me when I am old and sick?"

-->'''Ser Loras Tyrell''' [''discussing love'']: Once the sun has set, no candle can replace it.

--> '''Ned''': “I looked for you on the Trident,”
--> '''Ser Gerold''': “We were not there,”
--> '''Ser Oswell''': “Woe to the Usurper if we had been,”
--> '''Ned''': “When King's Landing fell, Ser Jaime slew your king with a golden sword, and I wondered where you were.”
--> '''Ser Gerold''': “Far away, or Aerys would yet sit the Iron Throne, and our false brother would burn in seven hells.”
--> '''Ned''': “I came down on Storm's End to lift the siege and the Lords Tyrell and Redwyne dipped their banners, and all their knights bent the knee to pledge us fealty. I was certain you would be among them.”
--> '''Ser Arthur Dayne''': “Our knees do not bend easily,”
--> '''Ned''': “Ser Willem Darry is fled to Dragonstone, with your queen and Prince Viserys. I thought you might have sailed with him.”
--> '''Ser Oswell''': “Ser Willem is a good man and true,”
--> '''Ser Gerold''': “But not of the Kingsguard, the Kingsguard does not flee.”
--> '''Ser Arthur''': “Then or now,”
--> '''Ser Gerold''': “We swore a vow,”
--> '''Ser Arthur''': “And now it begins,”
--> '''Ned''': “No. Now it ends.”