There Are Worse Ways To Die Than

But The Real Enemy Is The Cold. It Steals Up On You Quieter Than Will, And At First You Shiver And Your Teeth Chatter And You Stamp Your Feet And Dream Of Mulled Wine And Nice Hot Fires. It Burns, It Does. Nothing Burns Like The Cold. But Only For A While. Then It Gets Inside You And Starts To Fill You Up, And After A While You Don't Have The Strength To Fight It. It's Easier Just To Sit Down Ot Go To Sleep. They Say You Don't Feel Any Pain Toward The End. First You Go Weak And Drowsy, And Everything Starts To Fade, And Then It's Like Sinking Into A Sea Of Warm Milk. Peaceful, Like.

Once She Had Loved Prince Joffrey With All Her Heart, And Admired And Trusted Her His Mother, The Queen. They Had Repaid That Love And Trust With Her Father's Head. Sansa Would Never Make That Mistake Again.

Jon: Have You Seen The Wall? | Sam: I'm Fat, Not Blind.

Valar Morghulis - All Men Must Die.

Mother, I Want To See Him Fly!