"The world is full of horrors, Tommen. You can fight them, or laugh at them, or look without seeing . . . go away inside."
There was very little that Jaime took seriously. Tyrion knew that about his brother
Jaime never thinks, he laughs at everything and everyone and says whatever comes into his head.
“You should think less about the future and more about the pleasures at hand.” “Stop that!” the woman said. Bran heard the sudden slap of flesh on flesh, then the man's laughter.
Tyrion Lannister was as good as his word. He left the rest unsaid; that King Robert would ignore him, Lord Tywin would ask if he had taken leave of his senses, and Jaime would only laugh.
I stopped in front of the throne, looking up at him. His golden sword was across his legs, its edge red with a king's blood. My men were filling the room behind me. Lannister's men drew back. I never said a word. I looked at him seated there on the throne, and I waited. At last Jaime laughed and got up.
“…and death is all around you but their swords move so slowly, you can dance through them laughing.”
Laughing, he dropped to his knees, plunged his head under the water, and came up drenched and dripping.
"Oh, very good." Jaime laughed. "Your wits are quicker than mine, I confess it. When they found me standing over my dead king, I never thought to say, 'No, no, it wasn't me, it was a shadow, a terrible cold shadow.'" He laughed again.
The pool from which the town took its name, where legend said that Florian the Fool had first glimpsed Jonquil bathing with her sisters, was so choked with rotting corpses that the water had turned into a murky grey-green soup. “Care for a bath, Brienne?” He laughed. “You're a maiden and there's the pool. I'll wash your back.”
Jaime sang "Six Maids in a Pool," and laughed when I begged him to be quiet
Steel met steel with a ringing, bone-jarring clang. Somehow Brienne had gotten her own blade out in time. Jaime laughed.
He laughed a ragged, breathless laugh. “Come on, come on, my sweetling, the music's still playing. Might I have this dance, my lady?”
“No,” she said, “no, you must live.” He wanted to laugh. “Stop telling me what do, wench. I'll die if it pleases me.” “Are you so craven?”
Harrenhal, and remembered that was to be their destination. That made him laugh aloud, and that made Timeon slash his face with a long thin whip. The cut bled, but beside his hand he scarcely felt it. “Why did you laugh?”
“Harrenhal was where they gave me the white cloak,” […] Aerys never let me joust.” He laughed again. “He sent me away. But now I'm coming back.”
Jaime had to laugh, no matter how it hurt.
"The knights of the Kingsguard are sworn to keep the king's secrets. Would you have me break my oath?" Jaime laughed.
Jaime had to laugh.
He turned his head to look, but the sound was only his own laughter coming back at him. He closed his eyes, and just as quickly snapped them open. I must not sleep. If he slept, he might dream.
Every crow in the Seven Kingdoms should pay homage to you, Father. From Castamere to the Blackwater, you fed them well. That notion pleased Lord Tywin; his smile widened further. Bloody hell, he's grinning like a bridegroom at his bedding. That was so grotesque it made Jaime laugh aloud.
Jaime had to laugh.
But when the Piper boy started calling them Honor and Glory, he laughed and let the names stand.
Jaime had to laugh.
“. . . the sight of Brienne naked might have made the bear flee in terror.” Connington laughed. Jaime did not.
Piety and devotion. It was all he could do not to laugh.
Jaime did not know whether to laugh or weep.
For honor, Jaime might have said. For glory. That would have been a lie, though. Honor and glory had played their parts, but most of it had been for Cersei. A laugh escaped his lips.
“Hear us roar.” Jaime grinned. “Next you'll be telling me how much he liked to laugh.” “No. Tywin mistrusted laughter. He heard too many people laughing at your grandsire.”
Jaime had to laugh.
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