G

1) the starks derive their legitimacy from the mostly forgotten mythos of the long night :

2) volantis must fall :

3) daenerys’s story is also about healing :

4) ned’s legacy vs tywin’s in affc and adwd :

5) true knighthood and how it functions within asoiaf :

6) euron is terrifying and he’s messing with dany :

7) little walder frey is an interesting character :

8) the significance of the sigorn and alys wedding :

9) sam is a thematic key within the narrative :

11) winterfell was built to keep out the others :

12) visenya killed aenys :

"I wished for death often but now that I am at its door I have changed my mind about the world. It should go on; it is beautiful, even as a dream, filled with water and seed, plants and animals, others like myself, ships and buildings and messages filling the air - a beauty, if ever I have seen one. In the next world, should I remember this one, I will praise it above everything."

"His love is a small box he keeps you in. Don't stay in it."

"There was a light in his eyes. A light I've not seen for years."

"Her mind and spirit will age, but the world will treat her as she is now! And she will be miserable, and you will love her, and it will spiral beyond your reach!"

“My light. My Claudia. My redemption.”

–Louis de Pointe du Lac (Interview with the Vampire, ‘Is My Very Nature That of the Devil’)

“Elysium…The world needs a term of endearment.”

My favourite words from Disco Elysium.

(Bonus:)

How (Not) to Speak of God who has tried to reach us, who will do anything to reach us who is enough, who is more than enough who should be extolled with our sugared tongues who knows us in our burnished windshields as we pass who remembers the honey-colored husks of the locust who knows the scent of dust, the scent of each sparrow whose shadow does not flicker under streetlights who can feel without exaggerating anything who will care when the iridescent flies swarm toward us who shall be as the wings of the dove, its coppery shadows who waits in the midst of the mosquitoes who devoured the fruit of our ground, the skin of the overripe pears who saw the world incarnadined, the current flowing whose face is electrified by its own light who could be a piece of flame, a piece of mind shimmering who can feel without eroticizing everything who will pity us when the bees disappear into their shadows who loves the dank earth, its wolves and its tigresses