I learned how to die a long time ago.
“Is there gold hidden in the village? Is there silver? Gems? Is there food? Where is Lord Beric? Where did he go? How many men were with him? How many knights? How many bowmen? How many, how many, how many, how many, how many, how many? Is there gold hidden in the village?”
When I was a lad half your age, my lady mother told me that if I stood about with my mouth open, a weasel was like to mistake it for his lair, and run down my throat. If you have something to say, say it. If not, beware of weasels.
No Hodoring!
POWER is power.
Where are my dragons???
Do you know how to swim?
No
Don’t fall out.
Look, the pie!
“You lived your life for the king, you’re going to die for some chickens?”
“Someone is."
I want to see him fly!
My mother taught me not to throw stones at cripples. But my father taught me, aim for their head.
Dracarys
“Lots of people name their swords.”
“Lots of cunts.”
“My new blade. ‘Hearteater’ I’ve named it.”
So, tell me again exactly what it was that you saved?