In this latest attempt of burning my shadow away(again. but this time with a flame torch rather than saftey matches), I thought I'd compound the occasion with some new body ink. Without going into detail as to what this tattoo is marking for me at this time, I will say that I first read these words over a year ago but only yesterday did they merit the space on my skin. Actually, the days preceding yesterday I had no plan in mind for ink at all.
Here's to spontaneous actions that are, in some crazy sense, meant to be. But still basically crazy.
(That's my fierce bastard face, by the way. And in all honesty, it didn't hurt one bit. Thank you, adrenaline)
..."Give me a man for every vow I've seen broken and the Wall will never lack for defenders."
"I've always known that Robb would be Lord of Winterfell."
Mormont gave a whistle, and the bird flew to him again and settled on his arm. "A lord's one thing, a king's another." He offered the raven a handful of corn from his pocket. "They will garb your brother Robb in silks, satins, and velvets of a hundred different colors, while you live and die in black ringmail. He will wed some beautiful princess and father sons on her. You'll have no wife, nor will you ever hold a child of your own blood in your arms. Robb will rule, you will serve. Men will call you a crow. Him they'll call Your Grace. Singers will praise every little thing he does, while your greatest deeds all go unsung. Tell me that none of this troubles you, Jon... and I'll name you a liar, and know I have the truth of it."Jon drew himself up, taut as a bowstring. "And if it did trouble me, what might I do, bastard as I am?""What *will* you do?" Mormont asked. "Bastard as you are?"
"Be troubled," said Jon, "and keep my vows."
- George R. R. Martin, A Clash Of Kings
