A Game of Thrones - Pg 748

   The heads were mounted between the crenels, along the top of the wall, impaled on iron spikes so they faced out over the city. Sansa had noted them the moment she'd stepped out onto the wallwalk, but the river and the bustling streets and the setting sun were ever so much prettier. He can make me look at the heads, she told herself, but he can't make me see them.
   "This one is your father," he said. "This one here. Dog, turn it around so she can see him."
   Sandor Clegane took the head by the hair and turned it. The severed head had been dipped in tar to preserve it longer. Sansa looked at it calmly, not seeing it at all. It did not really look like Lord Eddard, she thought; it did not even look real. "How long do I have to look?"
   Joffrey seemed disappointed. "Do you want to see the rest?" There was a long row of them.
   "If it please Your Grace."