la petite mort

Who we are and who we need to be to survive are very different things.

He was all I had once, before Myrcella was born. I used to spend hours looking at him. His wisps of hair, his tiny little hands and feet. He was such a jolly little fellow. You always hear the terrible ones were terrible babies. “We should have known, even then we should have known.” It’s nonsense. Whenever he was with me, he was happy. And no one can take that away from me - not even Joffrey.

Henri Matisse (French, 1869-1954), Nature morte aux fleurs,  21st April 1946. Pen and ink on paper, 43 x 55.5 cm.

I spent my life in foreign lands. So many men have tried to kill me, I don’t remember all their names. I have been sold like a broodmare. I’ve been chained and betrayed, raped and defiled. Do you know what kept me standing through all those years in exile? Faith. Not in any gods, not in myths and legends. In myself. In Daenerys Targaryen. The world hadn’t seen a dragon in centuries until my children were born. The Dothraki hadn’t crossed the sea, any sea. They did for me. I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms, and I will.

Some doors can’t be closed.

Leave one wolf alive and the sheep are never safe.

Alex Turner backstage at the Arctic Monkeys New York MSG gig (2012) [x]

nebula

(ˈnɛbjʊlə) ; latin, meaning “cloud” n. an interstellar cloud of dust, hydrogen, helium and other ionized gases.

New photo of Natalie Dormer photographed by Simon Emmett for People Magazine in 2014.

severus, narcissa whispered, tears sliding down her pale cheeks. my son. my only son. more here

Someone has to save our skins. Into the garbage chute, fly boy.

I’d say you get used to them - but you n e v e r really do.