Let me give you some counsel, bastard. Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strenght. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.

[Stares at dead knight, killed by the Direwolves]

Ersen: If he had sounded his horn...

Theon: Try and imagine it was you up there, Ersen. Its dark and cold. You have been walking century for hours looking forward to the end of your watch. Then you hear a noise and you move forward to the gate, and suddenly, you see eyes glowing green and gold in the torchlight.
Two shadows come rushing toward you faster than you can believe. You catch a glimpse of teeth, start to level your spear, and they slam into you and open your belly, tearing through leather as if it was cheese cloth.

[Shoves Ersen hard]

Theon: And now you're down on you back, your guts are spilling out and one of them has his teeth around your neck.

[Grabs Ersen around the neck and sqeezes]

Theon: Tell me, at what moment during all of this do you stop to blow your Fucking horn?"

[Shoves Ersen roughly]

I have lived a thousand lives and I’ve loved a thousand loves. I’ve walked on distant worlds and seen the end of time. Because I read.

The North remembers.

No mortal man could frighten him, no more than the darkness could, nor the bones of his soul, the grey and grisly bones of his soul.

The title was but a courtesy due him as a council member; Varys was lord of nothing but the spiderweb, the master of none but his whisperers.