The Lion and the Rose
Jaime Lannister: My brother tells me you keep your mouth shut. Unusual talent, for a sellsword.
Bronn: He tells me you shit gold, just like your father.
Jaime Lannister: Is this place safe?
Bronn: There's this knight, er, Laygood. Got thunderbolts on his shield? Right here is where I fuck his wife. She's a screamer, that one. If they don't hear her, they won't hear us. ... I've never seen Valyrian steel before. She's a beauty. Problem is, if you fight with an edged blade, I'll have to. And if I fight with an edged blade, I'll have no one left to pay me.
Jaime Lannister: I haven't used a sparring sword since I was nine. Bold warrior you are, attacking a man when his guard's down.
Bronn: Best time to attack a man. Mind yourself!
Jaime Lannister: If I still had my right hand...
Bronn: Plan on growin' it back?
Ramsay Snow: Father.
Roose Bolton: What did you do to him?
Ramsay Snow: I trained him. He was a slow learner, but he learned.
Roose Bolton: You flayed him.
Ramsay Snow: Peeled a few bits. Removed a few others.
Roose Bolton: This was Balon Greyjoy's son and heir.
Ramsay Snow: We've been flaying our enemies for a thousand years. The flayed man is on our banners.
Roose Bolton: My banners, not yours. You're not a Bolton, you're a Snow. Tywin Lannister has given me the North, but he won't lift a finger to help me take it. As long as the Ironborn hold Moat Cailin, our armies are trapped south of the Neck. Theon was a valuable hostage, not your plaything. I wanted to trade him for Moat Cailin.
Ramsay Snow: I already asked. Lord Greyjoy refused. Savages have...
Roose Bolton: You sent terms to Balon Greyjoy without my consent?
Ramsay Snow: You made me Acting Lord of Dreadfort. I acted.
Roose Bolton: I had to smuggle myself into my own lands thanks to the Greyjoys. I needed Theon. I needed him whole.
Ramsay Snow: Theon was our enemy. But Reek? Reek will never betray us.
Roose Bolton: I place far too much trust in you.
Ramsay Snow: Reek, how could you let me stand before my father unshaven? It's disrespectful.
Theon Greyjoy: Sorry, my lord.
Ramsay Snow: (to Locke) Give him the razor. (to Roose) I'm not a Bolton, father. What does it matter? Go on, Reek. A nice, close shave.
Oberyn Martell: Your Grace. Lord Tywin.
Tywin Lannister: Prince Oberyn.
Oberyn Martell: I don't believe you have met Ellaria. This is the Lord Hand Tywin Lannister and Cersei Lannister the Queen Regent. I suppose it is former Queen Regent now. Lord Hand and Lady Cersei, Ellaria Sand.
Ellaria Sand: My lord. My lady.
Tywin Lannister: Charmed.
Cersei Lannister: Cant's say I've ever met a Sand before.
Ellaria Sand: We are everywhere in Dorne. I have 10,000 brothers and sisters.
Oberyn Martell: Bastards are born of passion, aren't they? We don't despise them in Dorne.
Cersei Lannister: No? How tolerant of you.
Oberyn Martell: I expect it is a relief, Lady Cersei, giving up your legal responsibilities. Wearing the crown for so many years must have left your neck a bit crooked.
Cersei Lannister: I suppose you'll never know, Prince Oberyn. It's a shame your older brother couldn't attend the wedding.
Tywin Lannister: Please give him our regards. With any luck the gout will abate with time and he will be able to walk again.
Oberyn Martell: They call it the rich man's disease. A wonder you don't have it, Lord Tywin.
Tywin Lannister: Noblemen in my part of the country don't enjoy the same lifestyle as our counterparts in Dorne.
Oberyn Martell: People everywhere have their differences. In some places the highborn frown upon those of low birth. In other places, the rape and murder of women and children is considered... distasteful. What a fortunate thing for you, former Queen Regent, that your daughter Myrcella has been sent to live in the latter sort of place.
Joffrey Baratheon: Well fought. Well fought. Here you are. Champion's purse. Though you're not the champion yet, are you? A true champion defeats all the challengers. Surely there are others out there who still dare to challenge my reign. Uncle. How about you? I'm sure they have a spare costume.
Tyrion Lannister: One taste of combat was enough for me, Your Grace. I would like to keep what remains of my face. I think you should fight him. This was but a poor imitation of your own bravery on the field of battle. I speak as a firsthand witness. Climb down from the high table with your new Valyrian sword and show everyone how a true king wins his throne. Be careful, though. This one is clearly mad with lust. It would be a tragedy for the king to lose his virtue hours before his wedding night. (Joffrey pours wine on Tyrions head) A fine vintage. Shame that it spilled.
Joffrey Baratheon: It did not spill.
Margaery Tyrell: My love, come back to me. It's time for my father's toast.
Joffrey Baratheon: Well, how does he expect me to toast without wine? Uncle, you can be my cupbearer seeing as you're too cowardly to fight.
Tyrion Lannister: Your Grace does me a fine honor.
Joffrey Baratheon: It's not meant as an honor... (Joffrey drops his cup on purpose) Bring me my goblet. ( Sansa gets it for Tyrion then he gives the cup to Joffrey) What good is an empty cup? Fill it. (Tyrion fills Joffreys cup) Kneel. Kneel before your king. ... Kneel. ... I said... KNEEL!
Margaery Tyrell: Look, the pie.
Joffrey Baratheon: Uncle. Where are you going? You're my cupbearer, remember?
Tyrion Lannister: I thought I might change out of these wet clothes, Your Grace.
Joffrey Baratheon: No, no, no. No, you're perfect the way you are. Serve me my wine. Well, hurry up. This pie is dry. (Tyrions gives Joffrey the cup) Mm, good. Needs washing down.
Tyrion Lannister: If it please Your Grace, Lady Sansa is very tired.
Joffrey Baratheon: No. (coughs) No, you'll wait here... (coughs) un- (coughs)
Tyrion Lannister: Your Grace?
Joffrey Baratheon: (keeps coughing) It's nothing.
Margaery Tyrell: He's choking!
Olenna Tyrell: Help the poor boy. ... Idiots, help your king.
Jaime Lannister: Move away! Joffrey! Joffrey!
Cersei Lannister: Help him! Someone help him! Joffrey!
Dontos Hollard: (to Sansa) Come with me now.
Cersei Lannister: Joffrey! Joffrey!
Dontos Hollard: (to Sansa) If you want to live, we have to leave.
Cersei Lannister: Don't touch him! Joffrey. Please, Joffrey. Joffrey, what is it? Help him! (Joffrey turns blue-ish and starts bleeding from his nose then he dies) My son.
Man: He's gone. Our king is gone.
Cersei Lannister: (looking at Tyrion) He did this. He poisoned my son, your king. Take him. Take him! Take him! Take him!