This is what life is. Fear, rage, desire, love. To stop feeling emotions, to stop wanting to feel them is to feel death.
Don’t let the moment pass. Don’t let the people you love walk by you without letting them know how you feel about them. Because life slips by and then it’s over.
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 hurt Krista. I don’t feel good about that. I hope you’re not mad at me. But you have to admit, she’s just like everyone else. Too afraid to peak over their walls for fear of what they might see. Not me. That’s what I do. I look.
They say when a parent dies, a child feels his own mortality. But when a child dies, it’s immortality that a parent loses.
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 hardest thing you’re gonna have to face is not some monster out there with powers. It’s gonna be that feeling of uselessness when you can’t do anything.
Two days ago I strangled a woman to death just with my hands. That’s a strange sensation. Something so tremendous done by something so simple. The first ten seconds were uncomfortable, a feeling of limbo, but then your muscles tense, and she struggles and fights, but it almost disappears in the background along with everything else in the world. At that moment it’s just you and absolute power, nothing else. That moment stayed with me. I thought I’d feel guilty for being a murderer, but I don’t. I feel wonder.