Tyrion Lannister: We'll be fine. We're dressed like common merchants.
Varys: You walk like a rich person.
Tyrion Lannister: You've spent a lot of time studying the way rich people walk?
Varys: You walk as though the paving stones were your personal property. I used to steal from people like you when I was a boy.
Tyrion Lannister: I liked it. Power... even as a servant.
Varys: People follow leaders and they will never follow us. They find us repulsive.
Tyrion Lannister: I find us repulsive.
Varys: And we find them... repulsive, which is why we surround ourselves with large comfortable boxes to keep them away. And yet... no matter what we do... people like you and me are never really satisfied inside the box. Not for long.
Tyrion Lannister: And what do you hope to find at the end of the road to Meereen?
Varys: I told you. A ruler.
Tyrion Lannister: We've already got a ruler. Everywhere has already got a ruler. Every pile of sh*t on the side of every road has someone's banner hanging from it.
Varys: You are quite good, do you know? At ruling. During your brief tenure as Hand.
Tyrion Lannister: I didn't rule, I was a servant.
Varys: Still, a man of talent.
Tyrion Lannister: Managed to kill a lot of people?
Varys: Yes, but you showed great promise in other areas as well.
Petyr Baelish: A story we agree to tell each other over and over till we forget that it's a lie.
Varys: But what do we have left once we abandon the lie? Chaos. A gaping pit waiting to swallow us all.
Petyr Baelish: Chaos isn't a pit. Chaos is a ladder. Many who try to climb it fail and never get to try again. The fall breaks them. And some are given a chance to climb, but they refuse. They cling to the realm or the gods or love. Illusions. Only the ladder is real. The climb is all there is.
Varys: Littlefinger is one of the most dangerous men in Westeros. If Robb Stark falls, Sansa Stark is the key to the North.
Olenna Tyrell: And if Littlefinger marries her, he'll have the key in his pocket.
Varys: Which seems such a shame. Why should a man with such a low reputation steal away such a lovely bride?
Olenna Tyrell: You must despise him. You're working so hard to undermine him.
Varys: Actually, I rather enjoy him. But he would see this country burn if he could be king of the ashes.
Varys: I still dream of that night. Not of the sorcerer, not of his blade. I dream of the voice from the flames. Was it a god? A demon? A conjuror's trick? I don't know. But the sorcerer called and a voice answered. And ever since that day, I have hated magic and all those who practice it. But you can see why I was eager to aid in your fight against Stannis and his Red Priestess. A symbolic revenge of sorts.