Tyrion Lannister Could Not Have

He Wants You To Smile And Smell Sweet And Be His Lady Love. He Wants To Hear You Recite All Your Pretty Little Words The Way The Septa Taught You. He Wants You To Love Him... And Fear Him.

I'm Not A Writer Who's Preaching Some Particular Philosophy Or Something But The Big Questions Do Concern Me And I Like To Make My Readers Think And Debate And Argue With Each Other And Look At Some Aspect Of The World Or Some Act Of Governance Or War Or Power And Have An Angle They Haven't Considered Before, And That's Something I Strive For And Hopefully Have Accomplished.

It Was The Easiest Thing In The World For Arya To Step Up Behind Him And Stab Him. “is There Gold Hidden In The Village?” She Shouted As She Drove The Blade Up Through His Back. “is There Silver? Gems?” She Stabbed Twice More. “is There Food? Where Is Lord Beric?” She Was On Top Of Him By Then, Still Stabbing. “where Did He Go? How Many Men Were With Him? How Many Knights? How Many Bowmen? How Many, How Many, How Many, How Many, How Many, How Many? Is There Gold In The Village?

A Man Who Fights For Coin Is Loyal Only To His Purse.

She Narrowed Her Eyes. “what Is Our Heart’s Desire?” “vengeance.” His Voice Was Soft, As If He Were Afraid That Someone Might Be Listening. “justice.” Prince Doran Pressed The Onyx Dragon Into Her Palm With His Swollen, Gouty Fingers, And Whispered, “fire And Blood.