Well, Clint is thoroughly American--all that classist, born-to-it bullshit sounds suspiciously like the kind of noise a Hydra goon makes when you punch 'em hard enough. Seriously, he'd be as bad for Westerosian politics as he is everything else he touches (steaks and one dog aside).

Brienne's saying something shocking, though, and Clint is shocked. "Twenty years?! Where I'm from, we get a summer and winter every year--and a couple other seasons, besides. How do people make it through a twenty-year winter?"