A Bruise Is A Lesson... And Each

When Maester Aemon Heard Him Sing, He Said His Voice Was Honey Poured Over Thunder.

She Remembered The Godswood, Drooping Branches Heavy With Moisture, And The Sound Of Her Brother’s Laughter As He Chased Her Through Piles Of Damp Leaves.

Will Holding A Secret In Your Heart Make It Any Less True? If You Never Tell, Never Speak Of It, Will It Become Only A Dream, Less Than A Dream, A Nightmare Half-remembered? Oh, If Only The Gods Would Be So Good. (catelyn)

For Men, The Answer Was Always The Same And Never Farther Away Than The Nearest Sword. For A Woman, A Mother, The Way Was Stonier And Harder To Know.

We All Need To Be Mocked From Time To Time, Lest We Take Ourselves Too Seriously.