Faye

“It hurts so much, she thought. Our children, Ned, all our sweet babes. Rickon, Bran, Arya, Sansa, Robb… Robb… please, Ned, please, make it stop, make it stop hurting… The white tears and the red ones ran together until her face was torn and tattered, the face that Ned had loved. Catelyn Stark raised her hands and watched the blood run down her long fingers, over her wrists, beneath the sleeves of her gown. Slow red worms crawled along her arms and under her clothes. It tickles. That made her laugh until she screamed. “Mad,” someone said, “she’s lost her wits,” and someone else said, “Make an end,” and a hand grabbed her scalp just as she’d done with Jinglebell, and she thought, No, don’t, don’t cut my hair, Ned loves my hair. Then the steel was at her throat, and its bite was red and cold.— Catelyn Stark”
― George R.R. Martin, A Storm of Swords

“For Beatrice--My love for you shall live forever. You, however, did not.”
― Lemony Snicket, The Reptile Room

“She had never loved him so much as she did in that instant.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones

“When he died, all things soft and beautiful and bright would be buried with him.”
― Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles