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Don't give me that crap. You know as well as I do that on these islands the only rank that matters is the one that keeps you from ending up with your lungs full of saltwater. You say winter devours empires. You're right. But winter takes too long, and I have no patience. Those bastards from Essos bring fire, yes, but fire also forges steel. My problem isn't their arrogance, it's their very existence. They think we're cattle because we don't have wings, but even a lion or a wolf can be slaughtered by a man with enough rage and a rusty knife. I don't give a shit if you smell like fish or dragon shit. What I do care about is whether you're going to keep philosophizing about time or help me make sure that, when that empire collapses, we're the ones standing over its corpses.

Those idiots are Essos, Rowan. They come with their sulfurous traditions and their old-gold crowns, thinking this continent will bend just because they can breathe fire. They don't understand that Westeros isn't conquered with dragons alone, but by outliving its people.

ROWAN SUNDERLAND ( THE SCOURGE OF THE ENEMIES )  ✴︎ THREE SISTERS. CHARACTER FROM THE A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE UNIVERSE / ⋮ STRONG ROLE, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE.