I have been despised by better men than you.

How I have yearned for the sound of your sweet voice,” Tyrion sighed to her. “How I have yearned to have that eunuch’s tongue pulled out with hot pincers,” Cersei replied.

I heard of a man who had a razor made of Valyrian steel. He cut his head off trying to shave.

Perhaps I will die too, she told herself, and the thought did not seem so terrible to her. If she flung herself from the window, she could put an end to her suffering, and in the years to come the singers would write songs of her grief. Her body would lie on the stones below, broken and innocent, shaming all those who had betrayed her. Sansa went so far as to cross the bedchamber and throw open the shutters ... but then her courage left her, and she ran back to her bed, sobbing.

It was that white cloak that soiled me, not the other way around.

Kind? How boring that would be. I aspire to be wicked.

On the gallows tree, all men are brothers.