What your mind sees when you close your eyes marks the entrance to an endless universe: your imagination.
No,_ said Bran. __ haven__. And if I have it doesn__ matter. Sometimes Old Nan would tell the same story she__ told before, but we never minded, if it was a good story. Old stories are like old friends, she used to say. You have to visit them from time to time.
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No,_ said Bran. __ haven__. And if I have it doesn__ matter. Sometimes Old Nan would tell the same story she__ told before, but we never minded, if it was a good story. Old stories are like old friends, she used to say. You have to visit them from time to time.
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As survivors and procreators, we unravel stories that at their root are not dissimilar from the habitual behaviors seen in nature. But as beings who know they will die we digress into episodes and epics that are altogether dissociated from the natural world. We may isolate this awareness, distract ourselves from it, anchor our minds far from its shores, and sublimate it as a motif in our sagas. Yet at no time and in no place are we protected from being tapped on the shoulder and reminded, __ou__e going to die, you know._ However much we try to ignore it, our consciousness haunts us with this knowledge. Our heads were baptized in the font of death; they are doused with the horror of moribundity.
You don't just have people who wake up in the morning and say, "What evil things can I do today, because I'm Mr. Evil?" People do things for what they think are justified reasons. Everybody is the hero of their own story, and you have to keep that in mind. If you read a lot of history, as I do, even the worst and most monstrous people thought they were the good guys. We're all very tangled knots.
Much that may seem evil can be good.
A son for a son, heh. But that's a grandson...and he never was much use." --Walder Frey
Oh, had I, weak and faint of speech, words to teach my fellow-creatures the beauty and capabilities of man's mind; could I, or could one more fortunate, breathe the magic word which would reveal to all the power, which we all possess, to turn evil to good, foul to fair; then vice and pain would desert the new-born world!It is not thus: the wise have taught, the good suffered for us; we are still the same; and still our own bitter experience and heart-breaking regrets teach us to sympathize too feelingly with a tale like this.