The Iron Throne is mine by rights. All those who deny that are my foes." "The whole of the realm denies it, brother," said Renley. "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.

As Daenerys Targaryen rose to her feet, her black hissed, pale smoke venting from its mouth and nostrils. The other two pulled away from her breasts and added their voices to the call, translucent wings unfolding and stirring the air, and for the first time in hundreds of years, the night came alive with the music of dragons.

Courage and folly are cousins, or so I’ve heard.

Kill me, and be cursed. You are no king of mine.

And I tell you truly, Danaerys, there is no man in all the world who will ever be half so true to you as me.

Ofttimes a very small man can cast a very large shadow.

Can they love without a word for it?