The strongest trees are rooted in the dark places of the earth. Darkness will be your cloak, your shield, your mother’s milk. Darkness will make you strong.
She had no time for sleep, with the weight of the world upon her shoulders. And she feared to dream. Sleep is a little death, dreams the whisperings of the Other, who would drag us all into his eternal night. She would sooner sit bathed in the ruddy glow of her red lord’s blessed flames, her cheeks flushed by the wash of heat as if by a lover’s kisses. Some nights she drowsed, but never for more than an hour. One day, Melisandre prayed, she would not sleep at all. One day she would be free of dreams. Melony, she thought. Lot Seven.
“He’ll have Casterly Rock, isn’t that enough? Let Father sit the throne. All I want is you.” He made to touch her cheek. Old habits die hard, and it was his right arm he lifted.
Cersei recoiled from his stump. “Don’t… don’t talk like this. You’re scaring me, Jaime. Don’t be stupid. One wrong word and you’ll cost us everything. What did they do to you?”
“They cut off my hand.”
“No, it’s more, you’re changed.” She backed off a step. “We’ll talk later. on the morrow. I have Sansa Stark’s maids in a tower cell, I need to question them… you should go to Father.”
I’d much rather be famous for being a fabulous bitch than being, “Oh gosh, she’s such a nice mom. She does that nice wife really well.” I’d rather it be, “Wow, she’s really a great bitch!”
i. toxic - yael naim | ii. pagan poetry - bjork | iii. fall over - banks | iv. obedear - purity ring | v. numb - portishead | vi. shake it out (the weeknd remix) - florence and the machine | vii. skin - blooms | viii. elegy - bearcubs | ix. water me - fka twigs | x. prism - hucci | xi. wrath of a god - crystal castles | xii. stay positive - stay+ | xiii. benediction - raffertie | xiv. shallow - 16bit | xv. empty - she might bite | xviii. death is a disease - clint mansell | xix. sacrilege - yeah yeah yeahs | xx. wild is the wind - cat power | xxi. harmless monster - cocorosie | xxii. nightcall - london grammar | xxiii. kill of the night - gin wigmore
A royal wedding is not an amusement. A royal wedding is history. Time has come for all of us to contemplate our history.