"She was a maiden of rarest beauty, and not more lovely than full of glee. And evil was the hour when she saw, and loved, and wedded the painter. He, passionate, studious, austere, and having already a bride in his Art; she a maiden of rarest beauty, and not more lovely than full of glee; all light and smiles, and frolicsome as the young fawn; loving and cherishing all things; hating only the Art which was her rival; dreading only the pallet and brushes and other untoward instruments which deprived her of the countenance of her lover. It was thus a terrible thing for this lady to hear the painter speak of his desire to pourtray even his young bride. But she was humble and obedient, and sat meekly for many weeks in the dark, high turret-chamber where the light dripped upon the pale canvas only from overhead. But he, the painter, took glory in his work, which went on from hour to hour, and from day to day. And be was a passionate, and wild, and moody man, who became lost in reveries; so that he would not see that the light which fell so ghastly in that lone turret withered the health and the spirits of his bride, who pined visibly to all but him. Yet she smiled on and still on, uncomplainingly, because she saw that the painter (who had high renown) took a fervid and burning pleasure in his task, and wrought day and night to depict her who so loved him, yet who grew daily more dispirited and weak. And in sooth some who beheld the portrait spoke of its resemblance in low words, as of a mighty marvel, and a proof not less of the power of the painter than of his deep love for her whom he depicted so surpassingly well. But at length, as the labor drew nearer to its conclusion, there were admitted none into the turret; for the painter had grown wild with the ardor of his work, and turned his eyes from canvas merely, even to regard the countenance of his wife. And he would not see that the tints which he spread upon the canvas were drawn from the cheeks of her who sate beside him. And when many weeks bad passed, and but little remained to do, save one brush upon the mouth and one tint upon the eye, the spirit of the lady again flickered up as the flame within the socket of the lamp. And then the brush was given, and then the tint was placed; and, for one moment, the painter stood entranced before the work which he had wrought; but in the next, while he yet gazed, he grew tremulous and very pallid, and aghast, and crying with a loud voice, ‘This is indeed Life itself!’ turned suddenly to regard his beloved: — She was dead!
Henry V is depicted by Shakespeare as the perfect monarch ruling over England,managing to become, by means of an extremely calculated technology of self-representation the successful Machiavellian producer of his own hero-image as he transformed himself (throughout Henry IV Part 1 and Henry IV Part 2 ) from Prince Hal the nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales to King Henry V.
Shakespeare offers us in his play Henry V two images of King Henry: to the public eye he appears as a sincere,religious, law-abiding king, the mirror of all Christian kings and, at the same time it gives us insights into the Machiavellian means and strategies by which the above image had been created.
Henry V combined both of Richard II’s divine authority and his own father’s political sophistication rendering him the greatest ruler and warrior king of medieval England .
The king is full of grace and fair regard.
And a true lover of the holy church.
The courses of his youth promised it not.
The breath no sooner left his father’s body,
But that his wildness, mortified in him,
Seem’d to die too; yea, at that very moment
Consideration, like an angel, came
And whipp’d the offending Adam out of him,
Leaving his body as a paradise (1.1.4),Henry V
Cersei stumbles from one idiocy to the next helped along by her council of the deaf,the dim,and the blind.
Petyr Baelish - A Feast For Crows
Robert and Rosalind Lutece are two of my favorite characters of all time,Bioshock Infinite would not be as amusing and fascinating if it wasn’t for them ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)
Robert : “Why do you ask what?”
Rosalind : “When the delicious question is when.”
Robert : “The only difference between past and present…”
Rosalind : “is semantics.”
Robert : “Lives, lived, will live.”
Rosalind : “Dies, died, will die.”
Robert : “If we could perceive time as it really was…”
Rosalind : “what reason would grammar professors have to get out of bed?”
Robert : “Like us all, lady Comstock, exists across time.”
Rosalind : “She is both alive and dead.”
Robert : “She perceives being both.”
Rosalind : “She finds this condition… disagreeable.”
"You would trade a whole planet for the life of one person? What does he owe you?" - Loki - (─‿‿─) <3
While reading Dany’s chapters I have always imagined her exquisite tokars to look like Sarees. A tokar is a Ghiscari clothing worn by the wealthy and the elites (the Good Masters of Astapor,the Wise Masters of Yunkai and the Great Masters of Mereen). It is the fringe on the tokar that proclaimed a man’s status.
Only then did Dany go back inside the pyramid, where Irri and Jhiqui were waiting to brush the tangles from her hair and garb her as befit the Queen of Meereen, in a Ghiscari tokar.
The garment was clumsy thing, a long loose shapeless sheet that had to be wound around her hips and under an arm and over a shoulder, its dangling fringes carefully layered and displayed. Wound too loose, it was like to fall off; wound too tight, it would tangle, trip, and bind. Even wound properly, the tokar required its wearer to hold it in place with the left hand. Walking in a tokar demanded small, mincing steps and exquisite balance, lest one tread upon those heavy trailing fringes. It was not a garment meant for any man who had to work. The tokar was a master’s garment, a sign of wealth and power.
Daenerys - A Dance With Dragons
When I saw Zuhair Murad’s Spring/Summer 2013 collection,I instantely thought of Nymeria Sand or “Lady Nym" : Nymeria Sand is one of the Sand Snakes ,the bastard born daughters of Oberyn Martell. She is his daughter by a noblewoman of Old Volantis.
She wore a gown of yellow silk so sheer and fine that the candles shone right through it to reveal the spun gold and jewels beneath.So immodest was her garb that the white knight seemed uncomfortable looking at her,but Hotah approved.Nymeria was least dangerous when nearly naked.Elsewise she was sure to have a dozen blades concealed about her person.
— The Watcher - A Dance With Dragons