Quotes About Grief

If I could wish the Kingslayer back in chains I would. You freed him without my knowledge or consent... but what you did, I know you did for love. For Arya and Sansa, and out of grief for Bran and Rickon. Love's not always wise, I've learned. It can lead us to great folly, but we follow our hearts... wherever they take us. Don't we, Mother?

You are a woman, my lady," the Greatjon rumbled in his deep voice. "Women do not understand these things." "You are the gentle sex," said Lord Karstark, with the lines of grief fresh on his face. "A man has a need for vengeance." "Give me Cersei Lannister, Lord Karstark , and you would see how gentle a woman can be," Catelyn replied.

Perhaps I will die too, she told herself, and the thought did not seem so terrible to her. If she flung herself from the window, she could put an end to her suffering, and in the years to come the singers would write songs of her grief. Her body would lie on the stones below, broken and innocent, shaming all those who had betrayed her. Sansa went so far as to cross the bedchamber and throw open the shutters ... but then her courage left her, and she ran back to her bed, sobbing.

I have become a sour woman. I take no joy in meat nor mead, and song and laughter have become suspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter longings. There is an empty place within me where my heart was once.

Just as you grieve if a friend is killed, you should grieve if a fictional character is killed. You should care. If somebody dies and you just go get more popcorn, it's a superficial experience isn't it?

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 shold have died with him.

Alyssa Arryn 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. Catelyn wondered how large a waterfall her own tears would make when she died.

It was like murdering two of your children. I try to make the readers feel they've lived the events of the book. Just as you grieve if a friend is killed, you should grieve if a fictional character is killed. You should care. If somebody dies and you just go get more popcorn, it's a superficial experience isn't it?

Do you want to know the horrible truth? I can't even remember what she looked like. I only know she was the one thing I ever wanted. Someone took her away from me, and seven kingdoms couldn't fill the hole she left behind. -Robert Baratheon

But they were all dead now, even Arya, everyone but her half-brother, Jon. Some nights she heard talk of him, in the taverns and brothels of the Ragman's Harbor. The Black Bastard of the wall, one man had called him. Even Jon would never know Blind Beth, i bet. That made her sad.

Even now, he was a Stark of Winterfell, and his grief and his rage froze hard inside him.

Surely the Mother Above loved my children more. She took so many of them away from me.

The wind cut like a knife up here, and shrilled in the night like a mother mourning her slain children.

One thing all the stories agreed on: King Robert was dead. The bells in the seven towers of the Great Sept of Baelor had tolled for a day and a night, the thunder of their grief rolling across the city in a bronze tide. They only rang the bells like that for the death of a king, a tanner's boy told Arya.

Do you think I do not know that? Oberyn is with me every time I close my eyes." Doran Martell

Can you drown in grief? She turned away sharply, angry with her own frailty. She had no time for the luxury of self-pity.

No mother should outlive her children, and no captain should outlive his ship.

Bones, Catelyn thought. This is not Ned, this is not the man I loved, the father of my children. His hands were clasped together over his chest, skeletal fingers curled about the hilt of some longsword, but they were not Ned's hands, so strong and full of life. They had dressed the bones in Ned's surcoat, the fine white velvet with the direwolf badge over the heart, but nothing remained of the warm flesh that had pillowed her head so many nights, the arms that had held her.

You should grieve if a fictional character is killed. You should care.

Even now, it was hard for her to believe that he was truly gone. Some nights she would wake in darkness, half-asleep, and for an instant expect to find him there beside her.

Sansa cried herself to sleep, Arya brooded silently all day long, and Eddard Stark dreamed of a frozen hell reserved for the Starks of Winterfell.

I am a creature of grief and dust and utter longings. There is an empty place within me where my heart was once.

I remember, Sam. I still remember." He was not making sense. "Remember what?" "Dragons," Aemon whispered. "The grief and glory of my House, they were.

Noooo," Cersei wailed, "Father help him, someone help him, my son, my son...' Tyrian found himself thinking of Robb Stark. My own wedding is looking much better in hindsight.