the gargoyle

the gargoyle

dû bist mîn, ich bin dîn
des solt dû gewis sîn
dû bist beslozzen
in mînem herzen
verlorn ist das sluzzelîn
dû muost ouch immer darinne sîn

it's our scars that makes us who we are..

last argument of kings

last argument of kings

he held his other hand up, and he left the fingers spread out, and the moonlight glinted black on his bloody hand, and on the bloody stump of his missing finger.

before they are hanged

before they are hanged (re)

crowds rarely cheer too loudly for the defeated, no matter how hard they fought, how great their sacrifices, how long the odds. maidens might wet themselves over cheap and worthless victories, but they don't so much as blush for 'I did my best'.

the blade itself

the blade itself (re)

back to the mud with you.. we're the poorer, and the ground's the richer for it.

as far as i'm concerned you can fuck whomever you please, though my general observation has been that, as far as the reputation of young women are concerned, the less fucking the better. the reverse is true for young men, of course. hardly fair, but then life is unfair in so many ways, this one hardly seems worth commenting on.

the mystery knight

the mystery knight

i'm going to clout you in the ear so hard your head will turn around backwards, and you'll spend the rest of your life looking at where you've been.

pattern

pattern

i'm lying on the anvil looking up at myself swinging the hammer.

shadow

shadow

old crow sitting in a tall thin tree,
and along comes the dodger and he says, 'that's me'

sub semnul palosului

sub semnul palosului

in zilele de furtuna, cand porneste sa clocoteasca balta, zic batranii sa fi vazut un crijac imbracat in zale umbland pe ape si izbind cu spada in valuri sa le spintece crestele.. primavara, la vreme potrivita, cand pornesc oamenii la pescuit, gasesc plutind pe balta cununi de flori, ciorchini de liliac si nu izbutesc sa afle care mana le va fi semanat. plutesc pana la asfintit si, una cate una, se afunda de istov in adancul apelor.

the belly of the bow

the belly of the bow

there's no such thing as evil, it's a myth, a sloppy, wasteful way of thinking. there's just bad luck that makes us do things, even though we're trying to do what's best. you can't fight bad luck, you've just got to accept it..

red seas under red skies

red seas under red skies

..on the stone floor of arena the defaults would go on, and the faces of the spectators would be the same, day after day. children tearing the wings from insects to laugh at how they flailed and bled.. and stepping on one every now and again.

before they are hanged

before they are hanged

why do i do this?

the blade itself

the blade itself

i've been fighting all my life, one enemy or another, one friend or another. i've known little else. i've seen men killed for a word, for a look, for nothing at all.. i've been ruthless, and brutal, and a coward. i've stabbed men in the back, burned them, drowned them, crushed them with rocks, killed them asleep, unarmed or running away. i've run away myself more than once. i've pissed myself with fear. i've begged fror my life.. i've no doubt the world would be a better place if i'd been killed years ago, but i haven't been, and i don't know why.. there are few men with more blood on their hands than me. none, that i know of. the bloody-nine they call me, my enemies, and there's a lot of them. always more enemies, and fewer friends. blood gets you nothing but more blood. it follows me now, always, like my shadow, and like my shadow i can never be free of it. i've earned it. i've deserved it. i've sought it out. such is my punishment.. i'm still alive!

a feast for crows

a feast for crows

ten thousand of your chilodren perished in my palm, your grace.. whilst you snored, i would lick your sons off my face and fingers one by one, all those pale sticky princes. you claimed your rights, my lord, but in the darkness i would eat your heirs.

doamne, oare ce i'o trebui atat de mult sa termine odata a dance with dragons?!! e deja cu mai mult de un an in intarziere si NU MAI AM RABDARE

the lies of locke lamora

the lies of locke lamora

..the only constant in the soul of man is inconstancy.

parfumul

parfumul

se repezira la inger, se prabusira asupra lui, il trantira la pamant. fiecare voia sa'l atinga, fiecare voia sa aiba macar o farama din el, o pana, o aripa, o scanteie din flacara sa minunata. ii sfasiara vesmintele, parul, pielea de pe trup, ii smulsera penele, ii patrunsera carnea cu coltii si ghearele, il napadira ca niste hiene.

mirosim a ceea ce suntem..

a game of thrones

a game of thrones

she had seen her husband, her brothers, and all her children slain, and yet in life she had never shed a tear. so in death, the gods had decreed that she would know no rest until her weeping watered the black earth of the vale, where the men she had loved were buried. she had been dead six thousand years now, and still no drop of the torrent had ever reached the valley floor far bellow.

a man who sees nothing has no use for his eyes.. cut them out and give them to your next outrider. tell him you hope that four eyes might see better than two.. and if not, the man after him will have six.

la fel de incantatoare ca prima oara..

diavolul memnoch

diavolul memnoch

"iar acum, sufletele celor morti striga si plang la portile raiului."