"With such a hell in your heart and your head, how can you live? How can you love?"
—  Fyodor Dostoevsky, from The Brothers Karamazov (via snowjon)

"Katniss, it’s just hunting. You’re the best hunter I know."

the wolves will come again | a fanmix about the stark kids | listen

i. winter - daughter ii. daniel in the den - bastille iii. bones - ms mr iv. wolf - first aid kit v. sorrow - the national vi. to build a home - the cinematic orchestra vii. no sound but the wind - editors viii. 3055 - ólafur arnalds ix. remain nameless - florence + the machine x. stop crying your heart out - oasis xi. hopeless wanderer - mumford & sons xii. youth - daughter xiii. seven devils - florence + the machine xiv. coming home (solo) - skylar grey xv. the train - james newton howard xvi. uprising - muse

Winter will never come for the likes of us. Should we die in battle, they will surely sing of us, and it’s always summer in the songs. In the songs all knights are gallant, all maids are beautiful, and the sun is always shining.

got s4 challenge | day 2 | favourite scene ↣ Sansa escaping King`s Landing

caelas:

saying feminism is unnecessary because you don’t feel oppressed is like saying fire extinguishers are unnecessary because your house isn’t on fire

sosuperawesome:

Katie Vernon

mikkkelsen:

Hannibal + Plants

As the black calla lily is Hannibal’s flower, the white Oriental lily is Will’s. 

The similarity in flowers represents their like mindedness, yet the contrast of the two colors, black and white, symbolizes the “good” and the “evil”.

Will’s flower, the same as Hannibal’s, portraying death, is not black, but white, purity and innocence. His soul tainted by his mind. 

That fight was over almost as soon as it began. Brandon was a man grown, and he drove Littlefinger all the way across the bailey and down the water stair, raining steel on him with every step, until the boy was staggering and bleeding from a dozen wounds. “Yield!” he called, more than once, but Petyr would only shake his head and fight on, grimly. When the river was lapping at their ankles, Brandon finally ended it, with a brutal backhand cut that bit through Petyr’s rings and leather into the soft flesh below the ribs, so deep that Catelyn was certain that the wound was mortal. He looked at her as he fell and murmured “Cat” as the bright blood came flowing out between his mailed fingers. She thought she had forgotten that.

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