Varys: I admire you, Lord Baelish: a grasper from a minor House, with a major talent for befriending powerful men, and women.
Ned: Lord Baelish, perhaps I was wrong to distrust you.
Ros: What she doesn't know won't hurt her.
Ros: And what do you want?
Sansa: King's Landing is my home now.
Do you know what the realm is?
Sansa: I don't understand. The Lannisters gave you wealth, power. Joffrey made you the Lord of Harrenhal.
You've been running all your life. Terrible things happened to your family and you weep. You sit alone in a dark room, mourning their fates. You've been a bystander to tragedy from the day they executed your father. Stop being a bystander, you hear me?
Ned: Lord Baelish. I understand you knew my brother Brandon as well.
Varys: His Grace has many cares. He entrusts some small matters to us that we might lighten the load.
Catelyn: I won't forget this. You're a true friend.
Renly: Such a shame, Littlefinger. It would have been so nice for you to have a friend.
Varys: Though I suppose beauty is a subjective quality, no? Is it true that Ser Marlon of Tumblestone prefers amputees?
Varys: When you imagine yourself up there, how do you look? Does the crown fit? Do all the lords and ladies simper and bow, the ones who sneered at you for years?
Renly: Now I understand. You know I have the numbers. You know I'm marching on King's Landing. When I take the throne, you hope to retain your position. And your head.
Oh, my sweet wife. My sweet, silly wife. I have only loved one woman... only one, my entire life.
Ned: Make peace with the Lannisters, you say... With the people who tried to murder my boy.
Petyr: But prominent families often forget a simple truth, I've found. Cersei: And which truth is that?
Petyr: Strange, isn't it? Sansa: What is?
Sansa: Why did you kill him?
Roose: Lannisters made you one of the great lords of Westeros. Yet, here you are in the North, undermining them. Why gamble with your position?
Margaery: I am not tutored in warfare, but basic arithmetic favors the side with the greater numbers.
Ros: It's Mhaegen. Petyr: Who? Ros: She works for you. She's the one ... the Gold Cloaks, they killed her baby.
Tyrion: Any advice for me on my new position?
Lancel: Step carefully, Lord Baelish. You'll find there's little tolerance for flesh peddlers in the new King's Landing.
Olenna: You've always been rather impressed with yourself, haven't you?
Sansa: You can't leave me here.
Pycelle: A successful courtship would make Lord Baelish acting Lord of the Vale.
Tywin: Men love to blame demons when their grand plans unravel.
Sansa: I thought you knew everyone's secrets.
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