In order to get inside their skin, I have to identify with them. That includes even the ones who are complete bastards, nasty, twisted, deeply flawed human beings with serious psychological problems. Even them. When I get inside their skin and look out through their eyes, I have to feel a certain - if not sympathy, certainly empathy for them. I have to try to perceive the world as they do, and that creates a certain amount of affection.

Faith is like porridge. Better with milk and honey.

If a man paints a target on his chest, he should expect that sooner or later someone will loose an arrow on him.

A thousand deaths would still be less than he deserves.

He wants you to smile and smell sweet and be his lady love. He wants to hear you recite all your pretty little words the way the septa taught you. He wants you to love him... and fear him.

Dragons old and young, true and false, bright and dark. And you. A small man with a big shadow, snarling in the midst of all.

The gods don’t care about men, no more than kings care about peasants.