His chains chinked softly. I seldom fling children from towers to improve their health. Yes, I meant for him to die.

Love is madness, and lust is poison.

When Maester Aemon heard him sing, he said his voice was honey poured over thunder.

...the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword." "...a ruler who hides behind paid executioners soon forgets what death is.

Sometimes he could almost forget that it was there, the way you forget about the sky or the earth underfoot, but there were other times when it seemed as if there was nothing else in the world.

What is dead may never die, but rises again, stronger and harder.

I wonder what the High Septon would have to say about the sanctity of oaths sworn while dead drunk, chained to a wall, with a sword pressed to your chest?