Tyrion Lannister

I'm not questioning your honor, Lord Janos. I'm denying its existence.

A mind needs books like a sword needs a whetstone.

— 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.

— He's Tyrion the Imp, of House Lannister. He killed your father. He murdered the Hand of the King!
— Oh, did I kill him too? I've been a very busy man.

— The rumors of your demise were unfounded.
— Sorry to disappoint you.

— 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 Lord of Light wants his enemies burned, the Drowned God wants them drowned. Why are all the gods such vicious cunts? Where is the god of tits and wine?

— 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.

A toast. To the proud Lannister children. The dwarf, the cripple, and the mother of madness.

It's hard to put a leash on a dog once you've put a crown on its head.

— You want to fuck that Stark girl. You just don't want to admit it.
— I don't pay you to put eνil notions in my head. The ones already there don't need company.
— You pay me to kill people who bother you. Eνil notions come free.