I'm not questioning your honor, Lord Janos. I'm denying its existence.
We've had vicious kings and we've had idiot kings, but I don't know if we've ever been cursed with a vicious idiot for a king.
— Power is a curious thing, my lord. Are you fond of riddles?
— Why, am I about to hear one?
— Three great men sit in a room. A king, a priest and a rich man. Between them stands a common sellsword. Each great man bids the sellsword kill the other two. Who lives, who dies?
— Depends on the sellsword.
— Does it? He has neither crown nor gold nor favor with the gods.
— He has a sword, the power of life and death.
— But if it's swordsmen who rule, why do we pretend kings hold all the power? When Ned Stark lost his head, who was truly responsible? Joffrey? The executioner? Or something else?
— I've decided I don't like riddles.
— Power resides where men believe it resides. It's a trick, a shadow on the wall. And a very small man can cast a very large shadow.
— Your brother wouId never have submitted to capture so meekly.
— We have our differences, Jaime and I. He's braver. I'm better-looking.
— The rumors of your demise were unfounded.
— Sorry to disappoint you.
— Tyrion of the House Lannister, you stand accused by the Queen Regent of regicide. Did you kill King Joffrey?
— No.
— Did your wife, the Lady Sansa?
— Not that I know of.
— How would you say he died, then?
— Choked on his pigeon pie.
— So you would blame the bakers?
— Or the pigeons. Just leave me out of it.
If a man paints a target on his chest, he should expect that sooner or later someone will loose an arrow on him.
Why is it that when one man builds a wall, the next man immediately needs to know what's on the other side?