Knight Of The Seven Kingdoms Quotes

A great battle is a terrible thing," the old knight said, "but in the midst of blood and carnage, there is sometimes also beauty, beauty that could break your heart.

The snail may leave a trail of slime behind him, but a little slime will do a man no harm, while if you dance with dragons, you must expect to burn.

Oak and iron, guard me well, or else I'm dead, and doomed to hell.

And the crow once called the raven black.

all men are fools, and all men are knights, where women are concerned.

How many eyes does Lord Bloodraven have? A thousand eyes and one.

Hard things only grow harder if you put them off.

Some words are wind, ser. Some are treason.

Pain was as much a part of knighthood as were swords and shields.

Is that gallantry I smell, or just stupidity? The two scents are much alike, as I recall.

Never refuse a cup of wine or a horn of ale,” Ser Arlan had once told him, “it may be a year before you see another.

Royce understood then why she had come: she had come to finish the task her relatives had begun; to do to him what he had done to her brother. Unmoving, he watched her, noting that tears were pouring down her beautiful face as she slowly bent down. But instead of reaching for his lance or her dagger, she took his hand between both of hers and pressed her lips to it. Through his daze of pain and confusion, Royce finally understood that she was kneeling to him, and a groan tore from his chest: "Darling," he said brokenly, tightening his hand, trying to make her stand, "don't do this…" But his wife wouldn't listen. In front of seven thousand onlookers, Jennifer Merrick Westmoreland, countess of Rockbourn, knelt before her husband in a public act of humble obeisance, her face pressed to his hand, her shoulders wrenched with violent sobs. By the time she finally arose, there could not have been many among the spectators who had not seen what she had done. Standing up, she stepped back, lifted her tear-streaked face to his, and squared her shoulders. Pride exploded in Royce's battered being—because, somehow, she was managing to stand as proudly—as defiantly—as if she had just been knighted by a king.

The summers have been shorter since the last dragon died, and the winters longer and crueler.

Better a beggar than a thief.

Reading books by candlelight will make you blind." "I need the candlelight to see the words, ser." "Do you want a clout in the ear?

My brothers have my measure when it comes to fighting and dancing and thinking and reading books, but none of them is half my equal at lying insensible in the mud.

Even a hedge knight has his honor.

Trueborn children are made in a marriage bed and blessed by the Father and the Mother, but bastards are born of lust and weakness.

One foe at a time, that was what the old man always said.

We are one. Man, horse, lance, we are one beast of blood and wood and iron.

Why give a horse to a man who cannot ride?

The sword was not the kingdom, he says.

Would you rather die with honor intact or live with it besmirched?

Look or be devoured.

An honorable death is well and good, but if the life at stake is not your own, what then?

I dreamed of you and a dead dragon, Egg's brother Daeron said to him. A great beast, huge, with wings so large they could cover this meadow. It had fallen on top of you, but you were alive and the dragon was dead. And so he was, poor Baelor. Dreams were a treacherous ground on which to build.

I am Thunder and Thunder is me, we are one beast, we are joined, we are one.

Every boy dreams of serving in the Kingsguard.

Sometimes it seemed as though he’d thumped his head on half the doors in Westeros, not to mention every beam in every inn from Dorne up to the Neck.

But peasant's pride is lordling's shame.

A falling star brings luck to him who sees it, Dunk thought. But the rest of them are all in their pavilions by now, staring up at silk instead of sky. So the luck is mine alone.

Another day done”—he would sigh—“and who knows what the morrow will bring us, eh, Dunk?

The world made no sense when a great prince died so a hedge knight might live.

Better to die a knight than live like that.

Bloodraven is the root of all our woes, the white worm gnawimg at the heart of the realm.

Three good men dead, to save a hedge knight's foot.

May the Warrior grant me a smooth course and a quick victory.

Good armor and a good horse means a good ransom if I unseat him.

The mystery knight prevails against all challengers, and wonder dances in his wake.

I know that eggs do well to stay out of frying pans.

Those pissing contests are how lords judge one another’s strength, and woe to any man who shows his weakness. A woman must needs piss twice as hard, if she hopes to rule. And

A hedge knight must hold tight to his pride. Without it, he was no more than a sellsword.

It is good to know there are some true knights still.

The smell of food made him realize how ravenous he was. There was hot bread and honey, a bowl of pease porridge, a skewer of roast onions and well-charred meat. He sat by the tray, pulled apart the bread with his hands, and stuffed some into his mouth.

Reading books by candlelight will make you blind.

A true knight is cleanly as well as godly.

Outlaws or poachers, makes no matter. Dead men make poor company.

In the deep sands a man must hoard his water.

A sworn sworn owes his liege our service and obedience, but this is madness.

A large belly requires a large mouth.

Never refuse a cup of wine or a horn of ale. It may be a year before you see another.

Even a freerider requires a horse to ride;sellswords must have swords to sell.

A snail hides in his shell.

Pride ill becomes a beggar, ser.

Strength to your arm, then.

A true knight is cleanly as well as godly,” the old man always said, insisting that they wash themselves head to heels every time the moon turned, whether they smelled sour or not.

You have another choice, though,” Prince Baelor said quietly. “Whether it is a better choice or a worse one, I cannot say, but I remind you that any knight accused of a crime has the right to demand trial by combat. So I ask you once again, Ser Duncan the Tall—how good a knight are you? Truly?

When you accept a lord's meat and mead, all you do reflects on him. Always do more than he expects of you, never less. Never flinch at any task or hardship. And above all, never shame the lord you serve.

The pie is meant to be the marriage, and a true marriage has in it many sorts of things—joy and grief, pain and pleasure, love and lust and loyalty. So it is fitting that there be birds of many sorts. No man ever truly knows what a new wife will bring him.

The old High Septon told my father that king’s laws are one thing and the laws of the gods another, the boy said stubbornly. Trueborn children are made in a marriage bed and blessed by the Father and the Mother, but bastards are born of lust and weakness, he said.

Why give a horse to a man who cannot ride? The sword was the kingdom, he says.

A sword sword owes his lord the truth.

Sand dogs must eat and feed their pups.

Dunk the Drunk, what is it that you think you heard?

Another black dragon, he thought. Another Blackfyre Rebellion. And soon another Redgrass field. The grass was not red when the sun came up.

How many eyes does Lord Bloodraven have? A thousand eyes, and one.

My prince, is that chivalrous?” asked Ser Lyonel Baratheon as the septon was finishing his invocation. “The gods will let us know,” said Baelor Breakspear.

The Wall is North.” Dunk looked at him. “That's a long way to ride.” “I have a new horse, ser.” “So you do.” Dunk had to smile. “And why would you want to see the Wall?” “Well,” said Egg, “I hear it's tall.

Then a begging brother in a tattered brown robe said a blessing on his sword, and a maid kissed his cheek. 'They are for me,' "Why?" He asked Pate. "What am I to them?" "A knight who remembered his vows," the smith said.

So many come to see me die, thought Dunk bitterly, but he wronged them. A few steps farther on, a woman called out 'Good fortune to you.' An old man stepped up to take his hand and said, 'May the gods give you strength, ser.' Then a begging brother in a tattered brown robe said a blessing on his sword, and a maid kissed his cheek. They are for me. 'Why?' he asked Pate. 'What am I to them?' 'A knight who remembered his vows,' the smith said.

Dunk was hugely tall for his age, a shambling, shaggy, big-boned boy of sixteen or seventeen years (no one was quite certain which) who stood closer to seven feet than to six, and had only just begun to fill out his frame.

In his youth, Ser Eustace Osgrey must have been the very picture of chivalry, tall and broad and handsome. Time and grief had worked their will on him, but he was still unbent, a big-boned, broad-shouldered, barrel-chested man with features as strong and sharp as some old eagle. His close-cropped hair had gone white as milk, but the thick mustache that hid his mouth remained an ashy grey. His eyebrows were the same color, the eyes beneath a paler shade of grey, and full of sadness. They

Then, however, he launched into a rallying cry that would echo down the centuries, speaking of “an urgent task which belongs to both you and God.” He continued: You must hasten to carry aid to your brethren dwelling in the East, who need your help for which they have often entreated. For the Turks, a Persian people, have attacked them . . . and have advanced as far into Roman territory as that part of the Mediterranean which is called the Arm of St. George [i.e., Constantinople]. They have seized more and more lands of the Christians, have already defeated them in seven times as many battles, killed or captured many people, have destroyed churches, and have devastated the kingdom of God. Wherefore with earnest prayer . . . God exhorts you as heralds of Christ to repeatedly urge men of all ranks whatsoever, knights as well as footsoldiers, rich and poor, to hasten to exterminate this vile race from our lands and to aid the Christian inhabitants in time . . . For all those going thither there will be remission of sins if they come to the end of this fettered life while either marching by land or crossing by sea, or in fighting the pagans. This I grant to all who go, through the power vested in me by God.

Dunk hauled him onto his feet and rattled him, shaking some of the mud onto Lord Ashford and the fair maid. “Tell him!” Aerion Brightflame spit out a mouthful of grass and dirt. “I withdraw my accusation.

A knight had to learn to live with aches and pains, the old man used to say. Aye, lad, and with broken bones and scars. They’re as much a part of knighthood as your swords and shields.

Dreams were a treacherous ground on which to build.

What I really need is a privy, not a prayer.

He wanted a castle with a lion on the gatehouse, but all he got were graves amongst the blackberries

A king’s mercy is a poisoned gift.

The snail may leave a trail of slime behind him, but a little slime will do a man no harm…while if you dance with dragons, you must expect to burn.

I’d leave your sword, but it would rust in the ground,” he said at last, apologetic. “The gods will give you a new one, I guess. I wish you didn’t die, ser.” He paused, uncertain what else needed to be said. He didn’t know any prayers, not all the way through; the old man had never been much for praying. “You were a true knight, and you never beat me when I didn’t deserve

When the hole was deep enough, he lifted the old man’s body in his arms and carried him there. He had been a small man, and slim; stripped of hauberk, helm, and sword belt, he seemed to weigh no more than a bag of leaves. Dunk was hugely tall for his age, a shambling, shaggy, big-boned boy of sixteen or seventeen years (no one was quite certain which) who stood closer to seven feet than to six, and had only just begun to fill out his frame. The old man had often praised his strength. He had always been generous in his praise. It was all he had to give.

Treason…is only a word. When two princes fight for a chair where only one may sit, great lords and common men alike must choose. And when the battle’s done, the victors will be hailed as loyal men and true, whilst those who were defeated will be known forevermore as rebels and traitors. That was my fate.

lief

If we start cutting the heads off all the fools and liars - half the towns in the seven kingdoms will be empty.

What happened to your hair?” “I cut it off, brother,” said Egg. “I didn’t want to look like you.

A great battle is a terrible thing,” the old knight said, “but in the midst of blood and carnage, there is sometimes also beauty, beauty that could break your heart.

along with the whole Royal Family Tribe of Judah theme, guess what the name of the new split kingdom of Judah was called? Time’s up: The United Kingdom! That’s right, they called it the UK! You just can’t make this stuff up.

Ser Davos,” the maester said. “When did you return?” “In the black of morning. My favorite time.” It was said that no one had ever handled a ship by night half so well as Davos Shorthand. Before Lord Stannis had knighted him, he had been the most notorious and elusive smuggler in all the Seven Kingdoms.

A hedge knight is the truest kind of knight, Dunk,” the old man had told him, a long long time ago. “Other knights serve the lords who keep them, or from whom they hold their lands, but we serve where we will, for men whose causes we believe in. Every knight swears to protect the weak and innocent, but we keep the vow best, I think.

For his [Maegor] first master-at-arms his mother [Queen Visenya] chose Ser Gawen Corbray, as deadly a knight as could be found in all the Seven Kingdoms.

Lord Kanlıkuzgun'un kaç gözü var? Bin gözü var ve bir tane daha.

The lamb was as good as any he had ever eaten, and the duck was even better, cooked with cherries and lemons and not near as greasy as most. The innkeep brought buttered pease as well, and oaten bread still hot from her oven. This is what it means to be a knight, he told himself as he sucked the last bit of meat off the bone. Good food, and ale whenever I want it, and no one to clout me in the head. He had a second tankard of ale with the meal, a third to wash it down, and a fourth because there was no one to tell him he couldn’t, and when he was done he paid the woman with a silver stag and still got back a fistful of coppers.

Tradimento… tradimento è solo una parola. Quando due principi si combattono l'un l'altro per uno scranno sul quale soltanto uno di loro potrà essere assiso, tutti devono fare una scelta, dai grandi lord fino agli uomini comuni. E una volta che la battaglia è compiuta, i vincitori verranno valutati come uomini sinceri e leali, mentre gli sconfitti saranno per sempre marchiati come ribelli e traditori. Fu questo il mio destino.

Butterwell’s

Butterwell

chunky,

peasant’s pride is lordling’s shame,

Young swords are worth more than old names,

Knights of the Seven Kingdoms!" Joffrey bellowed, and the thousands bellowed back. He could see Samwell and Robar leading the Silver Knights, riding out to form up around him. He saw Lord Tarly and his lances leading the Reach, Tywin and the lords of the West taking up his right. He saw Renly in his armor of summer carrying the stag of the Stormlands, Edmure Tully and his fishbones chanting out defiance. In the way of legends, the lords of Westeros had gathered for one final charge. Even though it might mean the death of them all, Joffrey could see that they were glad for it. An ending fit for a song—one last charge for peace.

Knights of the Seven Kingdoms!” Joffrey bellowed, and the thousands bellowed back. He saw banners flare—Stag, Lion, Fish, Rose—lords once enemies now riding side by side. An ending fit for a song, he thought, one last charge for peace.

septon

moon face

their kin remain, to drink my lady’s wines and eat her sweetmeats, like a plague of plump pink locusts done up in silk and velvet.

insolent

A hedge knight must hold tight to his pride. Without it

Wine makes all things possible,

has

I bought my head back with my daughter’s life. Alysanne was seven when they took her off to King’s Landing and twenty when she died

A great battle is a terrible thing,” the old knight said

He liked the way she ran, though. A pretty girl, and tall. I would not have to kneel to kiss that one. He knew how to kiss. A tavern girl had showed him one night in Lannisport, a year ago, but she’d been so short she had to sit on the table to reach his lips. The memory made his ears burn. What a great fool he was. It was jousting he should be thinking about, not kissing.

As far as arms went

I don’t know how to talk with highborn ladies,” he confessed as they were pouring. “We both might have been killed in Dorne

She is too good a horse for me. Just look at her.” A flush crept up Rohanne’s face. She clutched her braid, twisting it between her fingers. “I had to marry, you know that. My father’s will … oh, don’t be such a fool.” “What else should I be? I’m thick as a castle wall and bastard-born as well.” “Take the horse. I refuse to let you go without something to remember me by.” “I will remember you, m’lady. Have no fear of that.

Every knight needs a squire,” the boy said. “You look as though you need one more than most.

The old man always said that a knight should never love a horse

Another day done”—he would sigh—“and who knows what the morrow will bring us

Egg handed Dunk up his shield. “May the gods be with you, ser,” the boy said.

When he saw them making the two-backed beast,

Why?” he asked Pate. “What am I to them?” “A knight who remembered his vows,” the smith said.

Whoever heard of a sweaty dragon?

ARE THERE NO TRUE KNIGHTS AMONG YOU?

Always do more than he expects of you