Yet how? Well, my legs may be too small for my body, but my head is too large,  但是要怎么做呢？呵，我的腿太短，头却太大，

　　although I prefer to think it is just large enough for my mind.  总算这脑袋对我还算合适，

　　I have a realistic grasp of my own strengths and weaknesses.  凭着它我很清楚自己能干什么不能干什么，

　　My mind is my weapon. My brother has his sword, King Robert has his warhammer,  它就是我的武器。老哥有他的宝剑，劳勃国王有他的战锤，

　　and I have my mind. and a mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone, if it is to keep its edge.  我则有我的脑袋瓜……不过人若要保持思路清晰锐利，就得多读书，就好像宝剑需要磨刀石一样。"

　　Tyrion tapped the leather cover of the book.That’s why I read so much, Jon Snow. 提利昂轻敲书皮，"琼恩·雪诺，这就是为什么我读个不停啰。"

　　The boy absorbed that all in silence. He had the Stark face if not the name: long, solemn, guarded, a face that gave nothing away. 男孩静静地听完这番话。他虽然名分上没有史塔克这个姓，却有张地地道道史塔克家人的脸：脸长，严肃拘谨，喜怒不形于色。

　　Whoever his mother had been, she had left little of herself in her son.What are you reading about? he asked. 不论他母亲是谁，想必在他身上没留下多少自己的特征。"那你在读什么？"他问。

　　Dragons, Tyrion told him. "跟龙有关的东西。"提利昂告诉他。

　　What good is that? There are no more dragons, the boy said with the easy certainty of youth. "跟龙有关的东西。"提利昂告诉他。

　　So they say, Tyrion replied.Sad, isn’t it? When I was your age, used to dream of having a dragon of my own. "人们是这样说没错，"提利昂答道，"很可惜，不是吗？我在你这年纪的时候，还经常梦想哪天有自己的龙哪。"

　　You did? the boy said suspiciously. Perhaps he thought Tyrion was making fun of him. "真的吗？"男孩难以置信地说。或许他认为提利昂在寻他开心罢。