Fury: Lots of good stuff. I like this part:
“I think in the first season you can see with Sandor and Sansa, that there’s a frustration with Sandor trying to get through to Sansa that it’s not all fairytale and true knights and there’s so much badness in the world. But, by the end of the first season, obviously she’s seen… her father having his head cut off. So she’s maybe seen the light now, but I think there’s still a frustration of trying to [get her to] see the reality of the whole situation. It’s giving advice to Sansa for survival, basically.”
“I’ve done quite a lot of swashbuckling kind of films where all the actors ‘round me have their swords out… and my favorite [thing to do] is to tie all their swords up with fishing line, so when they take out the swords, it’s all over the place. It’s funny the first time…”
For the whole article, go HERE
“…this was a bitter tormented soul, a sinner who mocked both gods and men. He served but found no pride in service. He fought but took no joy in victory. He drank, to drown his pain in a sea of wine. He did not love, nor was he loved himself. It was hate that drove him. Though he committed many sins he never sought forgiveness. Where other men dream of love, or wealth or glory, this man Sandor Clegane dreamed of slaying his own brother, a sin so terrible it makes me shudder just to speak of it. Yet it was the bread that nourished him, the fuel that kept his fires burning. Ignoble as it was, the hope of seeing his brother’s blood upon his blade was all this sad and angry creature lived for…and even that was taken from him when Prince Oberyn of Dorne stabbed Ser Gregor with a poisoned spear”.
“I don’t care for him, Your Grace.” The words tumbled out desperately. “Drown him or have his head off, only … kill him on the morrow, if you like, but please … not today, not on your name day. I couldn’t bear for you to have ill luck … terrible luck, even for kings, the singers all say so …”
Joffrey scowled. He knew she was lying, she could see it. He would make her bleed for this.
“The girl speaks truly,” the Hound rasped. “What a man sows on his name day, he reaps throughout the year.” His voice was flat, as if he did not care a whit whether the king believed him or no.
Could it be true? Sansa had not known. It was just something she’d said, desperate to avoid punishment.
Goodbye you liar,
Well you sipped from the cup but you don’t own up to anything
Then you think you will inspire
Take apart your head
(and I wish I could inspire)
Take apart the demon, in the attic to the left.
You’re brought back but you’re running
I’ll find sleep in the end tonight
I can’t shake this little feeling
I’ll never get anything right
Unhappy is he to whom the memories of childhood bring only fear and sadness.
- H.P. Lovecraft “The Outsider”