(..) What the hell did you do to me? What I did? What I did is to save your life. I removed all the shrapnel I could, but there's a lot left, and it's headed into your atrial septum. Here, want to see? I have a souvenir. Take a look. I've seen many wounds like that in my village. (..)

(..) because it feels good to keep our son safe from hateful hypocrites. I killed your High Sparrow... and all his little sparrows... all his septons, all his septas, all his filthy soldiers, because it felt good to watch them burn. It felt good to imagine their shock and their pain. No thought has ever (..)

(..) through your nose. Not as uncommon as you might think. Your dad and I had a couple of these back in the day. She was probably born with a deviated septum and at some point they fixed it. Yeah, and they gave her a cute little nose while they were at it. That could be a nose job. (..)