For years I pretended to love the poor, the afflicted. I had pity for them, but I never loved them. They disgusted me
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
Sometimes severity is the price we pay for greatness
I've had lots of time to think about how good I was at seeming good