History has remembered the kings and warriors, because they destroyed. Art has remembered the people, because they created.
Best of Mycroft Holmes in Series 3.
If he wants me broken, then I will have to be whole.
Sansa eased open the door, and made her way down the winding stair. When she opened the door to the garden, it was so lovely that she held her breath, unwilling to disturb such perfect beauty. The snow drifted down and down, all in ghostly silence, and lay thick and unbroken on the ground. All color had fled the world outside. It was a place of whites and blacks and greys. White towers and white snow and white statues, black shadows and black trees, the dark grey sky above. A pure world, Sansa thought. I do not belong here.
I n e v e r k n o w w h y . I o n l y k n o w w h o .