They are children, Sansa thought. They are silly little girls, even Elinor. They’ve never seen a battle, they’ve never seen a man die, they know nothing. Their dreams were full of songs and stories, the way hers had been before Joffrey cut her fathers head off. Sansa pitied them. Sansa envied them.

When the end comes, I will meet it raging.

What the King dreams, the Hand builds.

Ofttimes a very small man can cast a very large shadow. Tyrion smiled. Lord Varys, I am growing strangely fond of you. I may kill you yet, but I think I'd feel sad about it. I will take that as high praise.

The greatest fools are ofttimes more clever than the men who laugh at them.

The world is full of cravens who pretended to be heroes.

If? The word is when.