/lit/ - Literature

>“After Jaime had made his confession, to drive home the lesson, Lord Tywin brought my wife in and gave her to his guards. They paid her fair enough. A silver for each man, how many whores command that high a price? He sat me down in the corner of the barracks and bade me watch, and at the end she had so many silvers the coins were slipping through her fingers and rolling on the floor, she…” The smoke was stinging his eyes. Tyrion cleared his throat and turned away from the fire, to gaze out into darkness. “Lord Tywin had me go last,” he said in a quiet voice. “And he gave me a gold coin to pay her, because I was a Lannister, and worth more.”
>"My giant of Lannister, I love you so."
>This time he dreamed he was at a feast, a victory feast in some great hall. He had a high seat on the dais, and men were lifting their goblets and hailing him as hero. Marillion was there, the singer who’d journeyed with them through the Mountains of the Moon. He played his woodharp and sang of the Imp’s daring deeds. Even his father was smiling with approval. When the song was over, Jaime rose from his place, commanded Tyrion to kneel, and touched him first on one shoulder and then on the other with his golden sword, and he rose up a knight. Shae was waiting to embrace him. She took him by the hand, laughing and teasing, calling him her giant of Lannister.
>“You ask that? You, who killed your mother to come into the world? You are an ill-made, devious, disobedient, spiteful little creature full of envy, lust, and low cunning."
>For hands of gold are always cold, but a woman's hands are warm.
>"He used to make me tell him how big he was. My giant, I had to call him, my giant of Lannister." Oswald Kettleblack was the first to laugh. Boros and Meryn joined in, then Cersei, Ser Loras, and more lords and ladies than he could count. The sudden gale of mirth made the rafters ring and shook the Iron Throne. It's true," Shae protested. "My giant of Lannister." The laughter swelled twice as loud. Their mouths were twisted in merriment, their bellies shook. Some laughed so hard that snot flew from their nostrils.
>“Did you ever like it?” “Did you ever like my touch?.” “More than anything,” she said, “my giant of Lannister.”
>"Wherever whores go."
>Sansa, Shae, all my women ... Tysha was the only one who ever loved me. Where do whores go?
>"I love you, Tyrion. I love your lips. I love your voice, and the words you say to me, and how you treat me gentle. I love your face."
Tyrion's chapters hurt on a re-read

>concentration in brazilian lit
no one told me this would all but blacklist me from any kind of employment