The choice is yours, brother. Live a thrall or die a king. Do you dare to fly? Unless you take the leap, you’ll never know." - Euron Greyjoy

One night, in his cups, he drank a jar of wildfire, after telling his friends it would transform him into a dragon, but the gods were kind and it transformed him into a corpse.

When you play a game of thrones you win or you die.

There was an agelessness about him, a stillness; on Roose Bolton's face, rage and joy looked much the same.

The gods made the earth for all men t' share. Only when the kings come with their crowns and steel swords, they claimed it was all theirs. "My trees," they said, "you can't eat them apples. My stream, you can't fish here. My wood, you're not t' hunt. My earth, my water, my castle, my daughter, keep your hands away or I'll chop 'em off, but maybe if you kneel t' me I'll let you have a sniff." You call us thieves, but at least a thief has t' be brave and clever and quick. A kneeler only has t' kneel.

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.

They'll kill for that knighthood, but don't ever think they'll die for it.