game of thrones meme: eight friendships or otps [3/8] → Tyrion & Bronn “I deny you nothing!” Lysa Arryn said, her voice peeved and shrill with irritation. “Name your champion, Imp…if you think you can find a man to die for you.” “If it is all the same to you, I’d sooner find one to kill for me.” Tyrion looked over the long hall. No one moved. For a long moment he wondered if it had all been a colossal blunder. Then there was a stirring in the rear of the chamber. “I’ll stand for the dwarf,” Bronn called out.
Education, in order to keep up the mighty delusion, encourages a species of ignorance. People are not taught to be really virtuous, but to behave properly. We are wicked because we are frightfully self-conscious. We nurse a conscience because we are afraid to tell the truth to others; we take refuge in pride because we are afraid to tell the truth to ourselves. How can one be serious with the world when the world itself is so ridiculous!
I certainly relate to Ygritte in the fact that she is so strong and also ruthless as well and I feel that especially within ‘Game of Thrones,’ I think that as a show, it is one of the frontrunners for showing dominant female characters and making sure that men answer to women rather than the other way around… Nobody’s actually come up to me saying that she inspires them, but she certainly inspires me to be tougher. I’m a bit of a wimp when it comes to the cold. My God, knowing that Ygritte is Wilding to the bone, it was fun to kind of give that a go and to portray that.
The Mad King was obsessed with [wildfire]. He loved to watch people burn, the way their skin blackened and blistered and melted off their bones. He burned lords he didn’t like. He burned Hands who disobeyed him. He burned anyone who was against him. Before long, half the country was against him. Aerys saw traitors everywhere. So he had his pyromancer place caches of wildfire all over the city… beneath the Sept of Baelor and the slums of Flea Bottom. Under houses, stables, taverns. Even beneath the Red Keep itself. Finally, the day of reckoning came. Robert Baratheon marched on the capital after his victory at the Trident. But my father arrived first with the whole Lannister army at his back, promising to defend the city against the rebels. I knew my father better than that. He’s never been one to pick the losing side. I told the Mad King as much. I urged him to surrender peacefully. But the king didn’t listen to me. He didn’t listen to Varys who tried to warn him. But he did listen to Grand Maester Pycelle, that grey, sunken cunt. “You can trust the Lannisters,” he said. “The Lannisters have always been true friends of the crown.” So we opened the gates and my father sacked the city. Once again, I came to the king, begging him to surrender. He told me to bring him my father’s head. Then he turned to his pyromancer. “Burn them all,” he said. “Burn them in their homes. Burn them in their beds.” Tell me, if your precious Renly commanded you to kill your own father and stand by while thousands of men, women, and children burned alive, would you have done it? Would you have kept your oath then? First, I killed the pyromancer. And then when the king turned to flee, I drove my sword into his back. “Burn them all,” he kept saying. “Burn them all.” I don’t think he expected to die. He… he meant to… burn with the rest of us and rise again, reborn as a dragon to turn his enemies to ash. I slit his throat to make sure that didn’t happen.
“They are children, Sansa thought. They are silly little girls, even Elinor. They’ve never seen a battle, they’ve never seen a man die, they know nothing. Their dreams were full of songs and stories, the way hers had been before Joffrey cut her fathers head off. Sansa pitied them. Sansa envied them.”