Littlefinger was only a mask he had to wear. Only sometimes Sansa found it hard to tell where the man ended and the mask began. Littlefinger and Lord Petyr looked so very much alike. She would have fled them both, perhaps, but there was nowhere for her to go. Winterfell was burned and desolate, Bran and Rickon dead and cold. Robb had been betrayed and murdered at the Twins, along with their lady mother. Tyrion had been put to death for killing Joffrey, and if she ever returned to King’s Landing the queen would have her head as well. The aunt she’d hoped would keep her safe had tried to murder her instead. Her uncle Edmure was a captive of the Freys, while her great-uncle the Blackfish was under siege at Riverrun. I have no place but here, Sansa thought miserably, and no true friend but Petyr.
“Lecter is so lucid, so perceptive; he’s trained in psychiatry… and he’s a mass murderer.”
Thomas Harris, Red Dragon
I Was Trying To Be Funny But It Came Out as Really Mean: A 5-part documentary starring me.
I fukin love 14th century art art because everyone looks so shady and suspicious of ppl around them its AMAZING
or just like they know something u dont and oh my gdfuck i cant
I believe the highest point is reached in Simone Martini’s Annunciation
and the look of absolute hatred Mary and Gabriel exchange.
i’d do anything to lose weight except exercising and eating healthy