Sansa had favored her mother’s gods over her father’s. She loved the statues, the pictures in leaded glass, the fragrance of burning incense, the septons with their robes and crystals, the magical play of the rainbows over altars inlaid with mother-of-pearl and onyx and lapis lazuli. Yet she could not deny that the godswood had a certain power too. Especially by night. Help me, she prayed, send me a friend, a true knight to champion me…
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Sansa knew all about the sorts of people Arya liked to talk to: squires and grooms and serving girls, old men and naked children, rough-spoken freeriders of uncertain birth. Arya would make friends with anybody.
blanket apology to all the female celebrities i hated as a teenager because i was up to my eyeballs in internalized misogyny
Dear Corporate America:
Please have Tim & Eric direct all (yes, we mean ALL) future ads for every product that needs selling for the rest of time. We appreciate it.
- The Wits Crew
Ohmygod. OHMYGOD. megsokay have you seen this?
Kit Harington on Jon Snow’s parentage