“It’s just a stupid sword,” she said, aloud this time…
… but it wasn’t.
Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell’s grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan’s stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow’s smile.”
[AGGRESSIVELY PROCRASTINATES FOR THREE HOURS ON SOMETHING THAT COULD HAVE BEEN FINISHED IN 30 MINUTES]
“ooooohhh” i say as i still dont understand
*laughs at joke I didn’t catch the punchline to*
“This is it.”
“This is what?”
“If I take one more step, it’ll be the farthest away from home I’ve ever been.”
“Come on, Sam. Remember what Bilbo used to say: It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.”
feeling intimidated by people you want to be really good friends with
