heaven

It wasn't Harren, Arya wanted to say, it was me. She had killed Chiswyck with a whisper, and she would kill two more before she was through. I'm the ghost in Harrenhal, she thought. And that night, there was one less name to hate. — A Clash of Kings - Arya VII

It's crazy, but it's true There's nothing I won't do I'd risk it all for you...

‘He looked up when he said it and his eyes met Dany’s, and it seemed as if he saw her standing there beyond the door.’

- A Clash of Kings (George R. R. Martin)

I just don't think she imagines there would be any point. Forgetting the precise color of Will's eyes isn't about the color. It is about forgetting Will. She doesn't just forget his eye color, she forgets his laugh, and as time passes, she knows she will forget more.

It's like Will turning around to talk to Jem and realizing he isn't there. Eventually he'll stop doing that, and that stopping is also a loss, because it's the acceptance that Jem is gone. Tessa turning into Jem wouldn't help Will, and her turning into Will wouldn't help her.

“They grow quickly now, and when they are grown I shall have my wings.”

“If I had wings, I would want to fly too, Dany thought.”

“I loved a maid as white as winter, with moonglow in her hair.”

She remembered a summer's snow in Winterfell when Arya and Bran had ambushed her as she emerged from the keep one morning. They'd each had a dozen snowballs to hand, and she'd had none. Bran had been perched on the roof of the covered bridge, out of reach, but Sansa had chased Arya through the stables and around the kitchen until both of them were breathless. She might even have caught her, but she'd slipped on some ice. Her sister came back to see if she was hurt. When she said she wasn't, Arya hit her in the face with another snowball, but Sansa grabbed her leg and pulled her down and was rubbing snow in her hair when Jory came along and pulled them apart, laughing.