Top 50 Quotes From Lord Varys

Lord: I was grievously sorry to hear of your troubles on the Kingsroad. We are all praying for Prince Joffrey's full recovery.
Eddard: A shame you didn't say a prayer for the butcher's son.

Janos: It's the Hand's tournament that's causing all this trouble, my lords.
Eddard: The king's tournament. I assure you the Hand wants no part of it.
Janos: Call it what you will, Lord Stark, ser, the city is packed with people and more flooding in every day. Last night we had a tavern riot, a brothel fire, three stabbings, and a drunken horse race down the Street of Sisters.
Lord: Dreadful.
Renly: If you can't keep the king's peace, perhaps the city watch should be commanded by someone who can.
Janos: I need more men.
Eddard: You'll get 50. Lord Baelish will see it paid for.
Petyr: I will?
Eddard: You found money for a champion's purse, you can find money to keep the peace.

Renly: My brother instructs us to stage a tournament in honor of Lord Stark's appointment as Hand of the King.
Petyr: Mm, how much?
Eddard: 40,000 Gold Dragons to the champion, 20,000 to the runner-up, 20,000 to the winning archer.
Grand: Can the treasury bear such expense?
Petyr: I'll have to borrow it. The Lannisters will accommodate, I expect. We already owe Lord Tywin three million gold. What's another 80,000?
Eddard: Are you telling me the crown is three million in debt?
Petyr: I'm telling you the crown is six million in debt.
Eddard: How could you let this happen?
Petyr: The Master of Coin finds the money. The king and the Hand spend it.
Eddard: I will not believe Jon Arryn allowed Robert to bankrupt the realm.
Grand: Lord Arryn gave wise and prudent advice, but I fear His Grace doesn't always listen.
Renly: "Counting coppers," he calls it.
Eddard: I'll speak to him tomorrow. This tournament is an extravagance we cannot afford.
Petyr: As you will. But still, we'd best make our plans.
Eddard: [more aggressively than intended] There will be no plans until I speak to Robert.
[calming down]
Eddard: Forgive me, my lords. I'm... I had a long ride.
Lord: You are the King's Hand, Lord Stark. We serve at your pleasure.

[Varys sneaks up on Littlefinger in the throne room]
Lord: The first to arrive and the last to leave. I admire your industry.
Petyr: You do move quietly.
Lord: We all have our qualities.
Petyr: You look a bit lonely today. You should pay a visit to my brothel this evening. First boy is on the house.
Lord: I think you are mistaking business with pleasure.
Petyr: Am I? All those birds that whisper in your ear, such pretty little things. Trust me... we accommodate all inclinations.
Lord: Oh, I'm sure. Lord Redwyne likes his boys very young, I hear.
Petyr: I'm a purveyor of beauty and discretion, both equally important.
Lord: Though I suppose beauty is a subjective quality, no? Is it true that Ser Marlon of Tumblestone prefers amputees?
Petyr: All desires are valid to a man with a full purse.
Lord: And I heard the most awful rumor about a certain lord with a taste for fresh cadavers. Must be enormously difficult to accommodate that inclination. The logistics alone... to find beautiful corpses before they rot.
Petyr: Strictly speaking, such a thing would not be in accordance with the king's laws.
Lord: Strictly speaking.
Petyr: Tell me... does someone somewhere keep your balls in a little box? I've often wondered.
Lord: Do you know I have no idea where they are? And we had been so close. But enough about me, how have you been since we last saw each other?
Petyr: Since you last saw me or since I last saw you?
Lord: Now, the last time I saw you, you were talking to the Hand of the King.
Petyr: Saw me with your own eyes?
Lord: Eyes I own.
Petyr: Council business. We all have so much to discuss with Ned Stark.
Lord: Everyone's well aware of your enduring... fondness for Lord Stark's wife. If the Lannisters were behind the attempt on the Stark boy's life, and it was discovered that you helped the Starks come to that conclusion... to think... a simple word to the queen...
Petyr: One shudders at the thought.
[Varys shudders mockingly]
Petyr: But you know something, I do believe I have seen you even more recently than you have seen me.
Lord: Have you?
Petyr: Yes. Earlier today, I distinctly recall you talking to Lord Stark in his chambers.
Lord: [scoffing] Was that you under the bed?
Petyr: And not long after that, when I saw you escorting a certain... foreign dignitary... council business? Of course, you would have friends from across the narrow sea. You're from there yourself. After all, we're friends, aren't we, Lord Varys? I'd like to think we are. So you can imagine my burden, wondering if the king might question my friend's sympathies, to stand at a crossroads where turning left means loyalty to a friend, turning right, loyalty to the realm...
Lord: Oh, please.
Petyr: ...to find myself in a position where a simple word to the king...
[Renly walks in]
Renly: What are you two conspiring about? Well, whatever it is, you'd best hurry up. My brother is coming.
Petyr: To a small council meeting?
Lord: Disturbing news from far away. Hadn't you heard?

Tyrion: I am losing my mind.
Lord: If anyone recognizes you, you'll lose more than that.
Tyrion: Look, we are thousands of miles from Westeros.
[Tyrion pulls his hood over his head]
Tyrion: What am I?
[Varys shrugs]
Tyrion: One more drunk dwarf.

Lord: Any fool with a bit of luck can find himself born into power. But earning it for yourself, that takes work.

Lord: The Seven Kingdoms need someone stronger than Tommen but gentler than Stannis. A monarch who could intimidate the High Lords and inspire the people. A ruler loved by millions, with a powerful army, and the right family name.
Tyrion: Good luck finding him.
Lord: Who said anything about "him"?

Bronn: We can throw books at them.
Lord: We don't have that many books.
Bronn: We don't have that many men either.

Lord: [to Kinvara] I suppose it's hard for a fanatic to admit a mistake. Isn't that the whole point of being a fanatic? You're always right. Everything is the Lord's will.

Tyrion: Do you know what it's like to stuff your shit through one of those air holes?
Lord: No. I only know what it's like to pick up your shit and throw it overboard.

[Varys visits Ned in the black cells]
Lord: Lord Stark. You must be thirsty.
[Varys offers Ned a canteen]
Eddard: Varys.
Lord: I promise you, it isn't poison.
[Ned does not move]
Lord: Why is it no one ever trusts the eunuch?
[Varys opens the canteen, takes a drink, and hands it to Ned, who gulps it down]
Lord: Not so much, my lord. I would save the rest if I were you. Hide it. Men have been known to die of thirst in these cells.
Eddard: What about my daughters?
Lord: The younger one seems to have escaped the castle. Even my little birds cannot find her.
Eddard: And Sansa?
Lord: Still engaged to Joffrey. Cersei will keep her close. The rest of your household are... all dead, it grieves me to say. I do so hate the sight of blood.
Eddard: You watched my men being slaughtered and did nothing.
Lord: And would again, my lord. I was unarmed, unarmored, and surrounded by Lannister swords. When you look at me, do you see a hero?
[pause]
Lord: What madness led you to tell the queen you'd learned the truth about Joffrey's birth?
Eddard: The madness of mercy. That she might save her children.
Lord: Ah, the children. It's always the innocents who suffer. It wasn't the wine that killed Robert, nor the boar. The wine slowed him down and the boar ripped him open, but it was your mercy that killed the king.
[pause]
Lord: I trust you know you're a dead man, Lord Eddard.
Eddard: The queen can't kill me. Cat holds her brother.
Lord: The wrong brother, sadly, and lost to her. Your wife has let the Imp slip through her fingers.
Eddard: If that's true... then slit my throat and be done with it.
Lord: Not today, my lord.
[Varys turns to leave]
Eddard: Tell me something, Varys. Who do you truly serve?
Lord: The realm, my lord. Someone must.
[Varys walks away, leaving Ned in the darkness]

Shae: And I tell him the story of how we meet.
Lord: To find so lovely a creature working in your father's kitchens - it almost beggars belief.
Tyrion: Strange things do happen. You should taste her fish pie.
Shae: I don't think Lord Varys likes fish pie.

[at the small council meeting about Daenerys Targeryen]
Robert: The whore is pregnant.
Eddard: You're speaking of murdering a child.
Robert: I warned you this would happen, back in the North. I warned you, but you didn't care to hear. Well, hear it now: I want them dead. Mother and child both, and that fool Viserys as well. Is that plain enough for you? I want them both dead!
Eddard: [quietly] You'll dishonor yourself forever if you do this.
Robert: [raises his voice] Honor? I've got Seven Kingdoms to rule! One king, Seven Kingdoms! Do you think honor keeps them in line? Do you think it's honor that's keeping the peace? It's fear! Fear and blood!
Eddard: Then we're no better than the Mad King!
Robert: Careful, Ned, careful now!
Eddard: You want to assassinate a girl because the Spider heard a rumor?
Lord: No rumor, my lord, the princess is with child.
Eddard: Based on whose information?
Lord: Ser Jorah Mormont. He is serving as advisor to the Targaryens.
Eddard: Mormont? You bring us the whispers of a traitor half a world away and call it fact.
Petyr: Jorah Mormont's a slaver, not a traitor. Small difference, I know, to an honorable man.
Eddard: He broke the law, betrayed his family, fled our land. We commit murder on the word of this man?
Robert: And if he's right? If she has a son, a Targaryen at the head of a Dothraki army? What then?
Eddard: The narrow sea still lies between us. I'll fear the Dothraki the day they teach their horses to run on water.
Robert: Do nothing. That's your wise advice? Do nothing 'til our enemies are on our shores?
[Robert looks around angirly at the other council members]
Robert: You're my council: counsel! Speak sense to this honorable fool!
Lord: I understand your misgivings, my lord. Truly, I do. It is a terrible thing we must consider, a vile thing. Yet we who presume to rule must sometimes do vile things for the good of the realm. Should the gods grant Daenerys a son, the realm will bleed.
Grand: I bear this girl no ill will, how many innocents will die? How many towns will burn? Is it not wiser, kinder even, that she should die now so that tens of thousands might live?
Renly: We should've had them both killed years ago.
Petyr: When you find yourself in bed with an ugly woman, best close your eyes, get it over with. Cut her throat. Be done with it.
Eddard: [walks right up to Robert] I followed you into war. Twice. Without doubts, without second thoughts. But I will not follow you now. The Robert I grew up with didn't tremble at the shadow of an unborn child.
Robert: She dies.
Eddard: I will have no part in it.
Robert: You're the King's Hand, Lord Stark. You'll do as I command, or I'll find me a Hand who will.
[Ned takes off his badge of office and tosses it onto the table in front of Robert]
Eddard: And good luck to him. I thought you were a better man.
Robert: Out. Out, damn you, I'm done with you!
[Ned turns and walks out]
Robert: Go, run back to Winterfell! I'll have your head on a spike!
[Ned walks through the throne room as Robert's shouts trail after him]
Robert: I'll find her myself, you fool! You think you're too good for this? Too proud and honorable? This is a war!

Tyrion: [about Shae] She wanted me to leave King's Landing. She begged me. I wouldn't go.
Lord: Why?
Tyrion: Because I liked it. Power. Even as a servant.

Petyr: The realm. Do you know what the realm is? It's the thousand blades of Aegon's enemies. A story we agree to tell each other over and over until we forget that it's a lie.
Lord: But what do we have left once we abandon the lie? Chaos? A gaping pit waiting to swallow us all.
Petyr: Chaos isn't a pit. Chaos is a ladder. Many who try to climb it fail and never get to try again. The fall breaks them. And some are given a chance to climb; they refuse. They cling to the realm or the gods or love. Illusions. Only the ladder is real. The climb is all there is.

Tyrion: What is it that you want exactly?
Lord: Peace. Prosperity. A land where the powerful do not prey on the powerless.
Tyrion: Where the castles are made of gingerbread and the moats are filled with blackberry wine. The powerful have always preyed on the powerless, that's how they became powerful in the first place.
Lord: Perhaps. And perhaps we've grown so used to horror we assume there's no other way.

Lord: Respect is how the young keep us at a distance, so we don't remind them of an unpleasant truth.
Tyrion: What is that?
Lord: Nothing lasts.

Tyrion: All rulers demand that people bend the knee. That's why they're rulers. She gave Tarly a choice, a man who had taken up arms against her. What else could she do?
Lord: Not burn him alive alongside his son?
Tyrion: I am her Hand, not her head. I can't make her decisions for her.
Lord: That's what I used to tell myself about her father. I found traitors, but I wasn't the one burning them alive. I was only a purveyor of information. It's what I told myself when I watched them beg for mercy, "I'm not the one doing it." When the pitch of their screams rose higher, "I'm not the one doing it." When their hair caught fire and the smell of their burning flesh filled the throne room, "I'm not the one doing it."

Shae: Why do you want me to leave?
Lord: Tyrion Lannister is one of the few people alive who could make this country a better place. He has the mind for it, he has the will, he has the right last name. And you - you are a complication.

Lord: [waiting to be slain] At least we're already in a crypt.

[after killing Shae, Tyrion takes a crossbow, then heads down the hall to the privy, opening the door to find his father seated upon the toilet. Tywin seems surprised to see Tyrion, but quickly regains his composure]
Tywin: Tyrion. Put down the crossbow.
[Tyrion does not comply]
Tywin: Who released you? Your brother, I expect. He always had a soft spot for you. Come, we'll go and talk in my chambers.
[Tywin starts to stand, but Tyrion steadies the crossbow, stopping Tywin]
Tywin: This is how you want to speak to me, hmm? Shaming your father has always given you pleasure.
Tyrion: All my life you've wanted me dead.
Tywin: Yes. But you refused to die. I respect that. Even admire it. You fight for what's yours. I'd never let them execute you. Is that what you fear? I'll never let Ilyn Payne take your head. You're a Lannister. You're my son.
[Tyrion does not believe his father]
Tyrion: I loved her.
Tywin: Who?
Tyrion: Shae.
Tywin: Oh, Tyrion. Put down that crossbow.
Tyrion: I murdered her. With my own hands.
Tywin: It doesn't matter.
Tyrion: Doesn't matter?
Tywin: She was a whore.
Tyrion: [raises the crossbow] Say that word again...
Tywin: And what? You'll kill your own father in the privy? No. You're my son. Now, enough of this nonsense.
Tyrion: I am your son and you sentenced me to die. You knew I didn't poison Joffrey, but you sentenced me all the same. Why?
Tywin: Enough. We'll go back to my chambers and speak with some dignity.
Tyrion: I can't go back there. She's in there.
Tywin: You're afraid of a dead whore?
[Tyrion shoots Tywin in the belly, knocking him backwards. Tywin groans in pain. Tyrion reloads the crossbow]
Tywin: You shot me.
[Tywin becomes angry]
Tywin: Ohh... you're no son of mine.
Tyrion: I am your son. I have always been your son.
[Tyrion shoots again, killing his father. Tyrion discards the crossbow as he leaves. The door opens, Varys stands there. He is shocked to see Tywin dead]
Lord: What have you done?
[Tyrion does not answer]
Lord: Quickly.
[Varys pulls Tyrion away, bolting the door behind them. He leads Tyrion to a room where is a large crate]
Lord: Trust me, my friend. I brought you this far.
[Varys helps Tyrion to enter the crate, then shuts it. Moments later, the crate is stowed aboard a ship. Varys begins walking back towards the Red Keep, but stops when he hears the bells tolling, signaling that Tywin's body has been discovered. Realizing that returning to the castle is unsafe, Varys turns around and heads back for the ship, sitting next to Tyrion's crate in silence as the ship sails for Essos]

Lord: [to Tyrion, re danger facing Shae] Your father has promised to hang the next whore he finds you with. Have you ever known your father to make idle threats?

Lord: [to his child spy] What have I told you, Martha?
Martha: The greater the risk, the greater the reward.
Lord: [nods] Go on. They'll be missing you in the kitchen.

Joffrey: You're the master of whisperers, you're supposed to know everything!
Lord: No man can be in all rooms at all times. I have many little birds in the North, my lord, but I haven't heard their songs since Theon Greyjoy captured Winterfell.
Joffrey: The Stark forces are distracted. Now is the time to strike.
Tyrion: To strike? My dear nephew, you do see these men preparing the walls for siege? You do understand Stannis Baratheon sails this way?
Joffrey: If my uncle Stannis lands on the shores of King's Landing, I'll ride out to greet him.
Tyrion: A brave choice, Your Grace. I'm sure your men will line up behind you.
Joffrey: They say Stannis never smiles.
[Joffrey briefly unsheathes his dagger]
Joffrey: I'll give him a red smile. From ear to ear.
[Joffrey walks away]
Tyrion: Imagine Stannis' terror.
Lord: I am trying.

Lord: [to Tyrion] There are many who know that without you this city faced certain defeat. The king won't give you any honors, the histories won't mention you, but we will not forget.

Tyrion: You're an intelligent man. I like to think I'm an intelligent man.
Lord: Oh, no one disputes that, my lord, not even the multitudes who despise you.
Tyrion: I wish we could converse as two honest, intelligent men.
Lord: I wish we could, too.
[a brief pause]
Tyrion: What do you want? Tell me.
Lord: If we're going to play, you'll have to start.
Tyrion: My brother was the youngest Kingsguard in history. My sister became queen at the age of nineteen. When I reached manhood, my father put me in charge of all the drains and cisterns in Casterly Rock.
Lord: A most highborn plumber.
Tyrion: The water never flowed better. And all the shit found its way to the sea. Never expected to have any real power. So when my father named me acting Hand...
Lord: You're quite good at being Hand, you know. Jon Arryn and Ned Stark were good men. Honorable men. But they disdained the game and those who played. You enjoy the game.
Tyrion: I do. Last thing I expected.
Lord: And you play it well.
Tyrion: I'd like to keep playing it. If Stannis breaches the gates, the game is over.
Lord: They say he burns his enemies alive to honor the Lord of Light.
Tyrion: The Lord of Light wants his enemies burned. The Drowned God wants them drowned. Why are all the gods such vicious cunts? Where is the god of tits and wine?
Lord: In the Summer Isles, they worship a fertility goddess with sixteen teats.
Tyrion: We should sail there immediately.
[a brief pause]
Lord: This morning I heard a song. All the way from Qarth, beyond the Red Waste. Danaerys Targaryen lives.
Tyrion: A girl at the edge of the world is the least of our problems.
Lord: She has three dragons. But even if what they say is true, it will be years before they are fully grown. And then there'll be nowhere to hide.
Tyrion: One game at a time, my friend.

Catelyn: How did you know I was coming?
Lord: Knowledge is my trade, my lady. Did you bring the dagger with you, by any chance?
[noticing her glance at Rodrik]
Lord: My little birds are everywhere, even in the North. They whisper to me the strangest stories.
[Rodrik hands the dagger over]
Lord: Valyrian steel.
Catelyn: Do you know whose dagger this is?
Lord: I must admit I do not.
Petyr: [snickering] Well, well, this is an historic day. Something you don't know that I do. There's only one dagger like this in all of the Seven Kingdoms. It's mine.
Catelyn: Yours?
Petyr: At least it was, until the tournament on Prince Joffrey's last nameday. I bet on Ser Jaime in the jousting, as any sane man would. When the Knight of the Flowers unseated him, I lost this dagger.
Catelyn: To whom?
Petyr: Tyrion Lannister. The Imp.

Lord: Any fool with a bit of luck can find himself born into power. But earning it for yourself, that takes work.

Lord: Your father has proven to be an awful traitor, dear.
Grand: King Robert's body was still warm when Lord Eddard began plotting to steal Joffrey's throne.
Sansa: [voice quivering] He wouldn't do that. He knows how much I love Joffrey. He wouldn't. Please, Your Grace, there's been a mistake. Send for my father, he'll tell you. The King was his friend.
Cersei: Sansa, sweetling, you're innocent of any wrong. We know that. Yet you're the daughter of a traitor. How can I allow you to marry my son?
Grand: A child born of a traitor's seed is no fit consort for a King. She's a sweet thing now, Your Grace, but in ten years, who knows what treason she may hatch?
Sansa: No, I'm not. I'll be a good wife to him, you'll see. I'll be a Queen just like you, I promise. I won't hatch anything.
Petyr: The girl is innocent, Your Grace. She should be given a chance to prove her loyalty.
Cersei: [sighs] Little dove, you must write to Lady Catelyn and your brother, the eldest, what's his name...?
Sansa: Robb.
Cersei: Word of your father's arrest will reach him soon, no doubt. Best it comes from you. If you would help your father, urge your brother to keep the King's peace. Tell him to come to King's Landing and swear his fealty to Joffrey.
Sansa: If... if I could see my father, talk to him about...
[Cersei looks at Sansa icily, and she swallows her words]
Cersei: You disappoint me, child. We've told you of your father's treason. Why would you want to speak to a traitor?
Sansa: I only meant that... what will happen to him?
Cersei: That depends.
Sansa: On...? On what?
Cersei: On your brother. And on you.
[Cersei hands Sansa the quill]

[Varys listens to the bells toll the alarm before the battle]
Lord: I've always hated the bells. They ring for horror. A dead king, a city under siege...
Tyrion: A wedding.
Lord: Exactly.

Lord: People follow leaders, and they will never follow us. They find us repulsive.
Tyrion: I find us repulsive.

Tyrion: [to Varys] If I lost my cock, I would drink all the time.
Tyrion: [to Grey Worm] Meaning no offense. He makes dwarf jokes, I make eunuch jokes.
Lord: I do not make dwarf jokes.
Tyrion: You think them.

Eddard: You think my life is some precious thing to me? That I would trade my honor for a few more years... of what? You grew up with actors. You learned their craft and you learnt it well. But I grew up with soldiers. I learned to die a long time ago.
Lord: Pity. Such a pity. What of your daughter's life, my lord? Is that a precious thing to you?

Catelyn: You little worm! You take me for some back-alley Sally that you can drag into a...
Petyr: [a prostitute appears with her john] Psst!
[ushering them away]
Petyr: I meant no disrespect to you of all people.
Catelyn: How dare you bring me here! Have you lost your mind?
Petyr: No one will come looking for you here. Isn't that what you wanted? I'm truly sorry about the locale.
Catelyn: How did you know I was coming to King's Landing?
Petyr: A dear friend told me.
Lord: [coming in] Lady Stark.
Catelyn: Lord Varys.
Lord: To see you again after so many years is a blessing.

Lord: A thousand blades, taken from the hands of Aegon's fallen enemies. Forged in the fiery breath of Balerion the Dread.
Petyr: There aren't a thousand blades. There aren't even two hundred. I've counted.
Lord: Heh. I'm sure you have. Ugly old thing.
Petyr: It has a certain appeal.
Lord: The Lysa Arryn of chairs. Shame you had to settle for your second choice.
Petyr: Early days, my friend. It is flattering really, you feeling such dread at the prospect of me getting what I want.
Lord: Thwarting you has never been my primary ambition, I promise you. Although, who doesn't like to see their friends fail now and then.
Petyr: You're so right. For instance, when I thwarted your plan to give Sansa Stark to the Tyrells, if I'm going to be honest, I did feel an unmistakable sense of enjoyment there. But your confidant, the one who fed you information about my plans, the one you swore to protect... you didn't bring her any enjoyment, and she didn't bring me any enjoyment. She was a bad investment on my part. Luckily, I have a friend who wanted to try something new. Something daring. And he was so grateful to me for providing this fresh experience.
Lord: I did what I did for the good of the realm.
Petyr: The realm. Do you know what the realm is? It's the thousand blades of Aegon's enemies, a story we agree to tell each other over and over, until we forget that it's a lie.
Lord: But what do we have left, once we abandon the lie? Chaos? A gaping pit waiting to swallow us all.
Petyr: Chaos isn't a pit. Chaos is a ladder. Many who try to climb it fail and never get to try again. The fall breaks them. And some, are given a chance to climb. They refuse, they cling to the realm or the gods or love. Illusions. Only the ladder is real. The climb is all there is.

Lord: How is your son, my lord?
Eddard: He'll never walk again.
Lord: But his mind is sound?
Eddard: So they say.
Lord: A blessing, then. I suffered an early mutilation myself. Some doors close forever, others open in most unexpected places.
[Varys points to a chair]
Lord: May I?
[Ned nods]
Lord: If the wrong ears heard what I'm about to tell you, off comes my head. And who would mourn poor Varys then? North or south, they sing no songs for spiders. But there are things you must know. You are the King's Hand and the king is a fool. Your friend, I know, but a fool, and doomed unless you save him.
Eddard: I've been in the capital a month. Why have you waited so long to tell me this?
Lord: I didn't trust you.
Eddard: So why do you trust me now?
Lord: The queen is not the only one who has been watching you closely. There are few men of honor in the capital. You are one of them. I would like to believe that I am another, strange as that may seem.
Eddard: What sort of doom does the king face?
Lord: The same sort as Jon Arryn. "The tears of Lys," they call it. A rare and costly thing. As clear and tasteless as water, it leaves no trace.
Eddard: Who gave it to him?
Lord: Some dear friend, no doubt, but which one? There were many. Lord Arryn was a kind and trusting man. There was one boy. All he was, he owed to Jon Arryn.
Eddard: His squire, Ser Hugh?
Lord: Pity what happened to him. Just when his life seemed to be going so nicely.
Eddard: If Ser Hugh poisoned him... who paid Ser Hugh?
Lord: [spreads his hands] Someone who could afford it.
Eddard: Jon was a man of peace. He was Hand for seventeen years, seventeen good years. Why kill him?
Lord: He started asking questions.

Tyrion: Who's that for?
Lord: Jon Snow.
Tyrion: Did you read it?
Lord: [indignantly] It's a sealed scroll for the King in the North.
[pause]
Tyrion: What's it say?
Lord: Nothing good.

Lord: You will be pleased to know our mutual friend is doing quite well in Lady Sansa's service.
Tyrion: Good. One of my better ideas.
Lord: And it seems the Grand Maester has found his way into a black cell?
[Tyrion shrugs]
Lord: Well played, my lord Hand. But should I be worried? Janos Slynt, Pycelle... the small council grows smaller every day.
Tyrion: The council has a reputation for serving past Hands poorly. I don't mean to follow Ned Stark to the grave.
Lord: Power is a curious thing, my lord. Are you fond of riddles?
Tyrion: Why? Am I about to hear one?
Lord: Three great men sit in a room: a king, a priest, and a rich man. Between them stands a common sellsword. Each great man bids the sellsword kill the other two. Who lives, who dies?
Tyrion: Depends on the sellsword.
Lord: Does it? He has neither crown, nor gold, nor favor with the gods.
Tyrion: He has a sword, the power of life and death.
Lord: But if it's swordsmen who rule, why do we pretend kings hold all the power? When Ned Stark lost his head, who was truly responsible? Joffrey? The executioner? Or something else?
Tyrion: I've decided I don't like riddles.
[pause]
Lord: Power resides where men believe it resides. It's a trick. A shadow on the wall. And a very small man can cast a very large shadow.

Lord: Cersei has offered a lordship to the man who brings her your head.
Tyrion: She ought to offer her cunt. Best part of her for the best part of me.

Lord: They say every time a Targaryen is born, the gods toss a coin and the world holds its breath.

[first lines]
Tyrion: You should consider yourself lucky.
Lord: Why?
Tyrion: At least you won't freeze your balls off.
Lord: You take great offense at dwarf jokes, but love telling eunuch jokes. Why is that?
Tyrion: Because I have balls, and you don't.

Lord: You have a choice, my friend. You can stay here at Illyrio's palace and drink yourself to death or you can ride with me to Meereen, meet Daenerys Targaryen and decide if the world is worth fighting for
Tyrion: Can I drink myself to death on the road to Meereen?

Joffrey: They say Stannis never smiles. I'll give him a red smile, from ear to ear.
[Joffrey walks away]
Tyrion: [jokingly] Imagine Stannis' terror.
Lord: I am trying.

Tyrion: I will not be of any use to Daenerys Targaryen if I lose my mind. I can't remember the last face I saw that wasn't yours.
Lord: It's a perfectly good face.

Olenna: The last time a Tyrell came to Dorne, he was assassinated. Hundred red scorpions, was it?
Ellaria: You have nothing to fear from us, Lady Olenna.
Olenna: You murder your own prince, but you expect me to trust you?
Obara: We invited you to Dorne because we needed your help. You came to Dorne because you needed our help.
Olenna: What is your name again? Barbaro?
[Nymeria chuckles]
Obara: Obara.
Olenna: [nods] Obara. You look like an angry little boy. Don't presume to tell me what I need.
Nymeria: Forgive my sister. What she lacks in diplomacy, she makes...
Olenna: Do shut up, dear.
[Olenna turns to Tyene]
Olenna: Anything from you?
[Tyene opens her mouth, but before she can say even one word, Olenna interrupts her]
Olenna: No? Good. Let the grown women speak.
Ellaria: The Lannisters have declared war on House Tyrell. They have declared war on Dorne. We must be allies now if we wish to survive.
Olenna: Cersei stole the future from me. She killed my son. She killed my grandson. She killed my granddaughter. Survival is not what I'm after now.
Ellaria: You're absolutely right. I chose the wrong words. It is not survival I offer. It is your heart's desire.
[Ellaria rings a bell]
Olenna: [smiles] And what is my heart's desire?
Ellaria: Vengeance.
[pause]
Ellaria: Justice.
[to Olenna's surprise, Varys appears. He looks at Olenna gravely]
Lord: Fire and Blood.

Eddard: You think my life is some precious thing to me? That I would trade my honor for a few more years... of what? You grew up with actors. You learned their craft and you learnt it well. But I grew up with soldiers. I learned to die a long time ago.
Lord: Pity. Such a pity. What of your daughter's life, my lord? Is that a precious thing to you?

Lord: [looking at the boy helping Tyrion put on his armor] Podrick, is that it?
Tyrion: "Is that it?" Nice touch. As if you don't know the name of every boy in town.
Lord: I'm not entirely sure what you're suggesting.
Tyrion: I'm entirely sure you're entirely sure what I'm suggesting.

Daenerys: I swear this: If you ever betray me, I'll burn you alive.
Lord: I would expect nothing less from the Mother of Dragons.

Lord: Hello, old friend. I thought we were so happy together until you abandoned me.
Tyrion: I suppose there's no point asking how you found me.
Lord: The birds sing in the west, the birds sing in the east, if one knows how to listen. They tell me you've already found favor with the Mother of Dragons.
Tyrion: Well, she didn't execute me, so that's a promising start. Now the heroes are off to find her, and I'm stuck here trying to placate a city on the brink of civil war. Any advice for an old comrade?
Lord: Information is the key. You need to learn your enemy's strengths and strategies. You need to learn which of your friends are not your friends.
Tyrion: If only I knew someone with a vast network of spies.
Lord: If only. A grand old city, choking on violence, corruption, and deceit. Who could possibly have any experience managing such a massive ungainly beast?
Tyrion: I did miss you.
Lord: Oh, I know.

Lord: Where are you going?
Tyrion: I need to speak to someone with hair.