“Littlefinger: A trade envoy from Lys once observed to me that Lord Stannis must love his daughter very well, since he'd erected hundreds of statues of her all along the walls of Dragonstone.Tyrion: My lord, those are gargoyles.”

“You look very elegant today, my lord.""I'm wounded. I strive to look elegant every day." - Tyrion & Littlefinger”

“The letter . . . What did your lords make of it, I wonder?”Stannis snorted. “Celtigar pronounced it admirable. If I showed him the contents of my privy, he would declare that admirable as well.”

“She had surrendered her virtue at six-and-ten, to a beautiful blond-haired sailor on a trading galley up from Lys. He only knew six words of the Common Tongue, but “fuck” was one of them—the very word she’d hoped to hear.”

“Jon wanted nothing more. No, he had to tell himself, those days are gone. The realization twisted in his belly like a knife. They had chosen him to rule. The Wall was his, and their lives were his as well. A lord may love the men that he commands, he could hear his lord father saying, but he cannot be a friend to them. One day he may need to sit in judgement on them, or send them forth to die.”

“You esteem this Penrose more than you do my lords bannermen. Why?”“He keeps faith.”“A misplaced faith in a dead usurper.”“Yes,” Davos admitted, “but still, he keeps faith.”“As those behind us do not?”Davos had come too far with Stannis to play coy now. “Last year they were Robert’s men. A moon ago they were Renly’s. This morning they are yours. Whose will they be on the morrow?”And Stannis laughed. A sudden gust, rough and full of scorn. “I told you, Melisandre,” he said to the red woman, “my Onion Knight tells me the truth.”“I see you know him well, Your Grace,” the red woman said.“Davos, I have missed you sorely,” the king said. “Aye, I have a tail of traitors, your nose does not deceive you. My lords bannermen are inconstant even in their treasons. I need them, but you should know how it sickens me to pardon such as these when I have punished better men for lesser crimes. You have every right to reproach me, Ser Davos.”“You reproach yourself more than I ever could, Your Grace. You must have these great lords to win your throne—”“Fingers and all, it seems.” Stannis smiled grimly.”

“The shadows come to dance my lord, dance my lord, dance my lord. The shadows come to stay my lord, stay my lord, stay my lord...”