The Rains of Castamere
Sigur Rós — PLAYED 193,478 TIMES

Sigur Rós cover The Rains of Castamere for Season 4 of HBO’s Game Of Thrones

And so he spoke, and so he spoke,
that Lord of Castamere,
But now the rains weep o’er his hall,
with no one there to hear.
Yes now the rains weep o’er his hall,
and not a soul to hear.

If this is to end in fire, then we should all burn together.


Jan Bogaerts (Dutch, 1878-1962), Maannicht (Moonlit night). Mixed media on paper.


Jan Bogaerts (Dutch, 1878-1962), Maannicht (Moonlit night). Mixed media on paper.

minimalist tolkien
different groups of elves (for kat)


Sharpening your sword may not always be the best solution, when expecting imminent danger. Instead, take some time to polish your shield. Make your enemies face themselves. Let them look into their own eyes and see that blood burst expression of barren anger, those beastly fangs and inhuman, callous smiles.


Images:  Medieval Azerbaijani shields (x)


I got involved in this because I’ve worked with Vince as an actor and I have some experience of trying to get an independent film off the ground, and it’s not easy. We’re quite idealistic in England. You know, we just hope we can get stuff off the ground that doesn’t cost an enormous amount of money, but something that will appeal, not just to the art house crowd, and Vince has managed to attract a pretty good cast. And, it’s just something I wanted to be part of, you know, because a lot of the time, we expend energy trying to make a silk purse out of a pig’s ear with some of the scripts that are sent to us, and this seems to me like a bit of a silk purse. — Charles Dance on Enemy of Man

Join the Kickstarter campaign - only 48 hours left - just $15 will get you a copy of the film and script!


Queen Berúthiel and her shipload of cats


Queen Berúthiel and her shipload of cats

Maxine Molin Rose. James Horner’s “For the Love of a Princess” from Braveheart


i forget that princes don’t have tails
until they kick at the water i am trying to make their home.

i forget that sailors drink no salt
until their bodies shrivel and wrinkle in the sea.

i forget that that captains must, too, breathe air
until my kisses do nothing to warm their lips.

i forget that i am not meant to care for them
until my sisters congratulate me on their death.

i forget that lovers can drown as well as enemies
until, one by one, they go limp in my arms.

i forget that i cannot cry
until it is all i cannot do to mourn.

i forget i am a monster
because what good would remembering do?

— “mermaid’s lament" - r. c. e. (via thepurposeismypenis)

Fire And Ice by Christian Bothner