What is honor compared to a woman’s love? And what is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms? Or a brother’s smile?
I do things because they feel good. I drink because it feels good. I killed my husband because it felt good to be rid of him. I f*** my brother because it feels good to feel him inside me. I lie about f*****g my brother because it feels good to keep our son safe from hateful hypocrites. I killed your High Sparrow and all his little sparrows, all his septons, all his septas, all his filthy soldiers, because it felt good to watch them burn.
The North remembers. We know no king but the King in the North whose name is Stark. I don’t care if he’s a bastard. Ned Stark’s blood runs through his veins. He’s my king from this day until his last day.
Sometimes a man has to make hard choices, choices that might look wrong to others, but you know are right in the long run.