Wow. You miss a lot being dead.
When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle ground.
All beauty is temporary. Decay and death haunt every breath we take.
The way I see it, there are two different kinds of death. If you’re lucky, you live a long life and one day your body stops working and it’s over. But if you’re not lucky, you die a little bit, over and over, until you realize it’s too late.
People do not just die out of nowhere for no reason! They die because something was done to them by someone!
In France I got used to seeing men die. I never got used to seeing horses die.
There’s only one war. Life against death.
You know what the worst part of being dead is? You’re stuck. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to change.
When we die we turn into stories. And every time someone tells one of those stories, it’s like we’re still here for them. We’re all stories in the end.
I have made arrangements with men I trust. If I should die, then you will die, know that.
An old friend once told me something that gave me great comfort. Something he had read. He said that Mozart, Beethoven, and Chopin never died. They simply became music.
You honor the dead by going on. Even when you’re scared. You live because they don’t get to.
