The Girl Who Waited.

"Glinda! Is it true you were her friend?" "Friend? Yes."

"Dany turned the whip in her hand. Such a light thing, to bear such weight. "Is it done, then? Do they belong to me?" "It is done," he agreed, giving the chain a sharp pull to bring Drogon down from the litter. Dany mounted her silver. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest. She felt desperately afraid. Was this what my brother would have done? She wondered if Prince Rhaegar had been this anxious when he saw the Usurper's host formed up across the Trident with all their banners floating on the wind. [...] [...]Though the Astapori yanked and tugged, Drogon would not budge off the litter. Smoke rose grey from his open jaws, and his long neck curled and straightened as he snapped at the slaver's face. It is time to cross the Trident, Dany thought, as she wheeled and rode her silver back."

Dirty Dancing

I prayed to the gods, take him away, make him die. He got the pox, and I knew I was the worst woman who ever lived. A murderer. I’d condemned this poor innocent child to a horrible death, all because I was jealous of his mother, a woman he didn’t even know. So I prayed to all seven gods, let the boy live. Let him live and I’ll love him, I’ll be a mother to him. I’ll beg my husband to give him a true name, to call him Stark and be done with it, to make him one of us. And he lived?

There’s quite a difference, isn’t there? Between what was and what should have been. There’s an awful lot of one, but there’s an infinity of the other.

It was quite a day

When we are in public and we want to tell each other that we love each other…

F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise (via wordsnquotes)