[Daenerys watches Drogo killing Viserys by pouring molten gold on his head. Daenerys does not shed a single tear for her brother]
Daenerys Targaryen: He was no dragon. Fire cannot kill a dragon.
[Tyrion is brought before Lysa, after asking to confess his crimes]
Lysa Arryn: You wish to confess your crimes?
Tyrion Lannister: Yes, My Lady. I do, My Lady.
Lysa Arryn: [smiles triumaphantly] The sky cells always break them! Speak, Imp. Meet your gods as an honest man.
Tyrion Lannister: [meekly] Where do I begin, my lords and ladies? I am a vile man, I confess it. My crimes and sins are beyond counting. I have lied and cheated, gambled and whored. I'm not particularly good at violence, but I'm good at convincing others to do violence for me. You want specifics, I suppose. When I was seven, I saw a servant girl bathing in the river. I stole her robe and she was forced to return to the castle naked and in tears. I close my eyes, but I can still see her tits bouncing...
[Bronn and others chuckle]
Tyrion Lannister: When I was ten, I stuffed my uncle's boots with goat shit. When confronted with my crime, I blamed a squire. Poor boy was flogged, and I escaped justice. When I was twelve I milked my eel into a pot of turtle stew. I flogged the one-eyed snake, I skinned my sausage. I made the bald man cry into the turtle stew, which I do believe my sister ate. At least I hope she did. I once brought a jackass and a honeycomb into a brothel...
[many of the crowd burst out laughing. Lysa explodes in rage, realizing that Tyrion is making fun of her]
Lysa Arryn: Silence!
Robin Arryn: What happened next?
Lysa Arryn: [angrily] What do you think you're doing?
Tyrion Lannister: [innocently] Confessing my crimes.
[in the duel, Bronn has killed Ser Vardis Egen and threw him out of the Moon Door. Lysa is furious]
Lysa Arryn: You don't fight with honor!
[Bronn turns to face Lysa, smiling mockingly]
[Bronn points to the open Moon Door]
Bronn: ...he did.
Syrio Florel: Do you pray to the gods?
Arya Stark: The old and the new.
Syrio Florel: There is only one god and his name is Death, and there is only one thing we say to Death: "Not today".
[Robert strikes Cersei across the face]
Cersei Lannister: I shall wear this as a badge of honor.
Robert Baratheon: Wear it in silence or I'll honor you again.
Tyrion Lannister: When I was twelve, I milked my eel into a pot of turtle stew. I flogged the one-eyed snake, I skinned my sausage, I made the bald man cry, into the turtle stew! Which I do believe my sister ate, at least I hope she did.
Sansa Stark: [talking about Joffrey] I don't want someone brave and gentle and strong. I want him.
[Tyrion rolls in his sleep very close to the edge of the cell, almost falling to his death. He wakes up in time, and quickly gets as far as he can from the chasm. He approaches the door, knocks and calls Mord the gaoler]
Tyrion Lannister: Mord! Turn-key! Mord! Mord!
[Mord, mean bully with little brain, enters the cell. He starts beating Tyrion with leather strap, making him retreat to the edge of the chasm]
Mord: [angrily] Dwarf man making noise!
Tyrion Lannister: How would you like to be rich?
Mord: [beats Tyrion again] Dwarf man still making noise!
Tyrion Lannister: [desperately] My family is rich. We have gold, lots of gold. I'm prepared to give you lots of gold if...
[Mord searches Tyrion's pockets, finding them empty]
Mord: No gold!
[Mord beats Tyrion once more]
Tyrion Lannister: Well, I don't have it HERE.
Mord: No gold!
[Mord beats Tyrion one last time and turns to leave]
Mord: Fuck off!
[Mord exits the cell]
[Tyrion tries once again to free himself. He leans on the cell door, kicks it and repeatedly calls Mord the gaoler. Mord hears him and enters the cell, waving the leather strap. Tyrion slumps on the floor]
Mord: Noise again?
Tyrion Lannister: About the gold...
[Mord beats Tyrion]
Mord: No gold! No gold!
Tyrion Lannister: [desperately] Listen to me. Listen to me! Sometimes possession is an abstract concept...
[Mord beats Tyrion, clearly angry at him for using difficult words which he cannot preceive with his limited intelligence. Tyrion groans in pain]
Tyrion Lannister: When they captured me, they took my purse, but the gold is still mine!
Mord: [holds the strap threateningly close to Tyrion's face] Where?
Tyrion Lannister: Where? I don't know where...
[Mord beats Tyrion]
Tyrion Lannister: ...but when they free me...
Mord: You want free?
[mockingly, Mord gestures to the six-hundred-feet-long drop where the cell ends]
Mord: Go be free!
Tyrion Lannister: Have you ever heard the phrase "rich as a Lannister"?
[Mord struggles to think it over]
Tyrion Lannister: [talks slowly] Of course you have! You're a smart man. You know who the Lannisters are. I am a Lannister. Tyrion, son of Tywin. Of course, you have also heard the phrase "a Lannister always pays his debts". If you deliver a message from me...
[Tyrion starts to stands, but Mord waves the strap, so Tyrion stops]
Tyrion Lannister: ...to Lady Arryn, I will be in your debt. I will owe you gold... if you deliver the message, and I live, which I very much intend to do.
Mord: [suspiciously] What message?
[slowly and cautiously, Tyrion stands]
Tyrion Lannister: Tell her I wish to confess my crimes.
[shortly afterwards, Tyrion is brought before Lady Arryn]
[Robert, Renly, Ser Barristan Selmy and Lancel are on hunting trip. Robert and Renly are armed with boar spears. Lancel carries a wineskin]
Lancel Lannister: More wine, your Grace?
[Robert takes the wineskin and drinks deeply. Then he hands it back to Lancel]
Robert Baratheon: What was I saying?
Renly Baratheon: Simpler time.
Robert Baratheon: It was! It was. You're too young to remember. Wasn't it simpler, Selmy?
Renly Baratheon: It was, Your Grace.
Robert Baratheon: The enemy was right in the open, vicious as you like, all but sending you a bloody invitation. Nothing like today.
Renly Baratheon: It sounds exhilarating.
Robert Baratheon: Exhilarating, yes. Not as exhilarating as those balls and masquerades you like to throw.
Robert Baratheon: You ever fuck a Riverlands girl?
Renly Baratheon: Once. I think.
Robert Baratheon: You think? I think you'd remember. Back in our day, you weren't a real man until you'd fucked one girl from each of the Seven Kingdoms and the Riverlands. We used to call it "making the eight".
Renly Baratheon: [dryly] Those were some lucky girls.
Robert Baratheon: You ever make the eight, Barristan?
Barristan Selmy: I don't believe so, Your Grace.
Robert Baratheon: [chuckles] Those were the days.
[Renly stops and glares at his elder brother]
Renly Baratheon: [angrily] Which days, exactly? The ones where half of Westeros fought the other half and millions died? Or before that, when the Mad King slaughtered women and babies because the voices in his head told him they deserved it? Or way before that, when dragons burned whole cities to the ground?
Robert Baratheon: [threateningly] Easy, boy. You might be my brother, but you're speaking to the King.
Renly Baratheon: [disgustedly] I suppose it was all rather heroic... if you were drunk enough and had some poor Riverlands whore to shove your prick inside and "make the eight".
[Renly storms away]
Lancel Lannister: More wine, Your Grace?
[again, Robert takes the wineskin and drinks deeply. Barristan Selmy looks at him concerned. Robert hands the wineskin back to Lancel and continues walking. Lancel and Selmy follow him]
Viserys Targaryen: Khal Drogo! I'm here for the feast!
[Khal Drogo speaks Dothraki, points to the door]
Jorah Mormont: Khal Drogo says, "There is a place for you - back there".
Viserys Targaryen: That is no place for a king!
Khal Drogo: [in English] You are no "king".