" Enough, " snarled Dagon Codd. " You think you can frighten ironborn with words? Begone. Run back to your master before I open your belly, pull your entrails out, and make you eat them" .
" I have no pity! I have no pity! The more the worms writhe, the more I yearn to crush out their entrails! It is a moral teething; and I grind with greater energy, in proportion to the increase of pain."
" The old ones" . When Ser Bartimus grinned, he looked just like a skull. " Me and mine were here before the Manderlys. Like as not, my own forebears strung those entrails through the tree" .