Witty Madness

suzywire:

Hated him? I worshipped him.

(Source: )

thesweettasteofkerosene:

[#]

(Source: -labyrinth)

(Source: owlytheowl)

meerareed:

Brave. Sansa took a deep breath. I am a Stark, yes, I can be brave.

“Blue is a good colour on you my lady,” Jaime observed. “It goes well with your eyes.”

“Blue is a good colour on you my lady,” Jaime observed. “It goes well with your eyes.”

(Source: edmures)

Most people blunder around this city and all they see are streets and shops and cars.

(Source: sarah-nade)

It’s been said that you’re similar to Sherlock. Are you?
I’m like every character I’ve ever played. There is an awful lot of me that’s not like Sherlock but that’s the me to share with those I know and love.

It’s been said that you’re similar to Sherlock. Are you?

I’m like every character I’ve ever played. There is an awful lot of me that’s not like Sherlock but that’s the me to share with those I know and love.

30 days of asoiaf —- day three: a scene you want to see on the show
›› “he will not come,” kraznys said.
“there is a reason. a dragon is no slave.” and dany swept the lash down as hard as she could across the slaver’s face. kraznys screamed and staggered back, the blood running red down his cheeks into his perfumed beard. the harpy’s fingers had tom his features half to pieces with one slash, but she did not pause to contemplate the ruin. “drogon,” she sang out loudly, sweetly, all her fear forgotten.
“dracarys.”
the black dragon spread his wings and roared.
(…)
“dracarys!” they shouted back, the sweetest word she’d ever heard. “dracarys! dracarys!” and all around them slavers ran and sobbed and begged and died, and the dusty air was filled with spears and fire.

30 days of asoiaf —- day three: a scene you want to see on the show

›› “he will not come,” kraznys said.

“there is a reason. a dragon is no slave.” and dany swept the lash down as hard as she could across the slaver’s face. kraznys screamed and staggered back, the blood running red down his cheeks into his perfumed beard. the harpy’s fingers had tom his features half to pieces with one slash, but she did not pause to contemplate the ruin. “drogon,” she sang out loudly, sweetly, all her fear forgotten.

“dracarys.”

the black dragon spread his wings and roared.

(…)

“dracarys!” they shouted back, the sweetest word she’d ever heard. “dracarys! dracarys!” and all around them slavers ran and sobbed and begged and died, and the dusty air was filled with spears and fire.