You wear your honor like a suit of armor, Stark. You think it keeps you safe, but all it does is weigh you down and make it hard for you to move.
You can’t hammer tin into iron, no matter how hard you beat it, but that doesn’t mean tin is useless.
Why is it that when one man builds a wall, the next man immediately needs to know what’s on the other side?
What is honor compared to a woman’s love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms…or the memory of a brother’s smile? Wind and words. Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.