His Breathing Was Very Shallow Now, His Voice A Whisper. Tell My Son. Jorah. Tell Him, Take The Black.

His breathing was very shallow now, his voice a whisper. “Tell my son. Jorah. Tell him, take the black. My wish. Dying wish.” “Wish?” The raven cocked its head, beady black eyes shining.” Corn? the bird asked. “No corn,” said Mormont feebly. “Tell Jorah. Forgive him. My son. Please. Go.”

Jeor Mormont , The Old Bear ; A Storm of Swords

..

And Robb. Robb who had been more a brother to Theon than any son born of Balon Greyjoy’s loins. Murdered at the Red Wedding, butchered by the Freys. I should have been with him. Where was I? I should have died with him.

A Dance With Dragons (via wordsoficeandfire)

By Gerry

“The story about where volcanoes come from” from Adventure Time with Fiona & Cake #1