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Laughter is poison to fear.
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dominique
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2019-04-09 06:12:33 UTC
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Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.
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ester
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2019-03-04 07:27:40 UTC
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... a mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone, if it is to keep its edge.
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catherina
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2019-02-20 18:10:50 UTC
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Do the dead frighten you?
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dominique
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2019-02-08 10:10:19 UTC
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Winter is coming.
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elmer
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2019-02-02 22:45:19 UTC
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And I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples and bastards and broken things.
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catherina
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2019-01-18 15:43:50 UTC
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Give me honorable enemies rather than ambitious ones, and I'll sleep more easily by night.
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drew
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2019-01-07 09:23:55 UTC
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Winter is coming.
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jolie
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2019-01-05 07:43:54 UTC
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And I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples and bastards and broken things.
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kina
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2018-12-01 12:11:34 UTC
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Knowledge could be more valuable than gold, more deadly than a dagger.
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phylicia
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2018-09-28 17:30:16 UTC
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There are no heroes...in life, the monsters win.
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leilani
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2018-07-29 03:21:12 UTC
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Summer will end soon enough, and childhood as well.
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debbi
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2018-07-28 10:12:51 UTC
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Laughter is poison to fear.
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isidro
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2018-07-14 06:52:44 UTC
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And I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples and bastards and broken things.
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tyree
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2018-05-22 13:53:06 UTC
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A lion doesn't concern itself with the opinion of sheep.
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jackie
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2018-04-29 16:15:17 UTC
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There are no heroes...in life, the monsters win.
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jackie
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2018-02-25 13:30:02 UTC
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Fear cuts deeper than swords.
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drew
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2017-12-27 06:59:29 UTC
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Winter is coming.
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rosaria
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2017-12-13 05:29:15 UTC
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A lion doesn't concern itself with the opinion of sheep.
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jackie
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2017-09-30 09:52:43 UTC
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Power is a curious thing. Who lives, Who dies. Power resides where men believe it resides. It is a trick, A shadow on the wall.
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phylicia
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2017-09-21 05:53:45 UTC
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Summer will end soon enough, and childhood as well.
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trey
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2017-06-02 16:57:47 UTC
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Power is a curious thing. Who lives, Who dies. Power resides where men believe it resides. It is a trick, A shadow on the wall.
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leilani
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2017-02-02 16:25:53 UTC
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A lion doesn't concern itself with the opinion of sheep.
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sharilyn
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2016-12-18 03:43:03 UTC
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And so he spoke, and so he spoke, that Lord of Castamere, but now the rains weep o'er his hall, with no one there to hear. Yes, now the rains weep o'er his hall, and not a soul to hear.
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tristan
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2016-10-15 04:46:43 UTC
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Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.
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austin
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2016-05-15 07:43:58 UTC
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The things I do for love.
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austin
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2015-12-13 02:55:28 UTC
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When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives.
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chi
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2015-07-09 19:26:03 UTC
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And I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples and bastards and broken things.
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chi
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2014-09-16 14:26:04 UTC
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