Will Martin
Will Martin
Will Martinis a New Zealand-born classical crossover singer...
joy faces rage
There was an agelessness about him, a stillness; on Roose Bolton's face, rage and joy looked much the same.
ivory skins steel
My skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel.
girl dream song
They are children, Sansa thought. They are silly little girls, even Elinor. They’ve never seen a battle, they’ve never seen a man die, they know nothing. Their dreams were full of songs and stories, the way hers had been before Joffrey cut her fathers head off. Sansa pitied them. Sansa envied them.
boys cows skinny
Irri and Jhiqui argued about Rakharo. “You are too skinny for him,” Jhiqui was saying. “You are almost a boy. Rakharo does not bed with boys. This is known.” Irri bristled back. “It is known that you are almost a cow. Rakharo does not bed with cows.
black cold stills
And all was black and still, and black and cold, and black and dead, and black.
gentle starks mistaken
Tyrion: My gentle sister seems to have mistaken me for Ned Stark. Bronn: I hear he was taller. Tyrion: Not after Joff took off his head.
men brave admiration
Those are brave men," he told Ser Balon in admiration. "Let's go kill them.
girl children fire
You could make a poultice out of mud to cool a fever. You could plant seeds in mud and grow a crop to feed your children. Mud would nourish you, where fire would only consume you, but fools and children and young girls would choose fire every time.
song men wheels
History is a wheel, for the nature of man is fundamentally unchanging. What has happened before will perforce happen again.
rain eye eggs
Aemon’s blind white eyes came open. “Egg?” he said, as the rain streamed down his cheeks. “Egg, I dreamed that I was old.
dream eye kissing
Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover’s kisses, and melted on her cheeks. At the center of the garden, beside the statue of the weeping woman that lay broken and half-buried on the ground, she turned her face up to the sky and closed her eyes. She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams.
dream men matter
Do dead man dream? The dead themselves are silent on the matter
girl night snow
Tell Robb that I'm going to command the Night's Watch and keep him safe, so he might as well take up needlework with the girls and have Mikken melt down his sword for horseshoes. - Jon Snow
father thinking glaciers
His sister liked to think of herself as Lord Tywin with teats, but she was wrong. Their father had been as relentless and implacable as a glacier, where Cercei was all wildfire, especially when thwarted.