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Petyr Baelish's Thoughts on Chaos

Thousand blades
Taken from the hands of Aegon's fallen enemies,
Forged in the fiery breath of Balerion the Dread.
There aren't 1000 blades.
Aren't even 200.
I've counted.
Ha, I am sure you have.
Ugly old thing.
Yet it has certain appeal.
The Lysa Arryn of chairs.
Shame you had to settle for your second choice.
Early days, my friend.
It is flattering, really.
You feeling such dread at the prospect of me getting what I want.
Thwarting you has never been my primary ambition. I promise you.
Although who doesn't like to see their friends fail now and then?
You so right.
For instance
When I thwarted your plan to give Sansa Stark to the Tyrells.
If I'm going to be honest,
I did feel an unmistakable sense of enjoyment there.
But your confidant,
the one who fed you information about my plans
the one you swore to protect...
You didn't bring her any enjoyment.
And she didn't bring me any enjoyment.
She was a bad investment of my part.
Luckily, I have a friend
who wanted to try something new.
Something daring.
And he was so grateful to me for providing this fresh experience.
I did what I did for the good of the realm.
The realm
Do you know what the realm is?
It's the thousand blades of Aegon's enemies.
A story we agree to tell each other over and over
till we forget that it's a lie.
But what do we have left once we abandon the lie?
A gaping pit waiting to swallow us all.
Chaos, isn't a pit.
Chaos is a ladder.

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Learn english with a dialog between Littlefinger and Lord Varys in the throne room.