If I got justice, my burnt body would hang over the gates of Winterfell
It's better to be cruel than weak
The runt of the litter. That one's yours, Snow.
My own father, your king, surrendered years ago to Robert Baratheon. I watched him bend the knee
In civilized lands, you refer to your betters by their proper titles
I'm a Greyjoy, I can't fight for Robb and my father both
With hunting, there's blood in the end