Robert Baratheon

— Lord Eddard Stark... I would name you the Hand of the King.
— I'm not worthy of the honour.
— I'm not trying to honour you. I'm trying to get you to run my kingdom, while I eat, drink and whore my way to an early grave.

— We still outnumber them.
— Which is the bigger number — five or one?
— Five.
— Five... One. One army — a real army united behind one leader with one purpose. Our purpose died with the Mad King. Now we've got as many armies as there are men with gold in their purse. And everybody wants something different. Your father wants to own the world. Ned Stark wants to run away and bury his head in the snow.

— You will dishonor yourself forever if you do this.
— Honor?! I've got seven kingdoms to rule! One king, seven kingdoms. Do you think honor keeps them in line? Do you think it's honor that's keeping the peace? It's fear — fear and blood.

— I swear if I weren't your king, you'd have hit me already.
— The worst thing about your coronation — I'll never get to hit you again.

— And that's all the realm is now — backstabbing and scheming and arse-licking and money-grubbing. Sometimes I don't know what holds it together.
— Our marriage.
— Ah, so here we sit, 17 years later, holding it all together. Don't you get tired?
— Every day.
— How long can hate hold a thing together?
— Well, 17 years is quite a long time.

— What was she like?
— You've never asked about her, not once. Why not?
— At first, just saying her name even in private felt like I was breathing life back into her. I thought if I didn't talk about her, she'd just fade away for you. When I realized that wasn't going to happen, I refused to ask out of spite. I didn't want to give you the satisfaction of thinking I cared enough to ask. And eventually it became clear
that my spite didn't mean anything to you. As far as l couId tell,
you actually enjoyed it.
— So why now?
— What harm could Lyanna Stark's ghost do to either of us that we haven't done to each other a hundred times over?