Here is a short version of Poe’s The Assignation : Venice (Part 1)
"A child, slipping from the arms of its own mother, had fallen from an upper window of the lofty structure into the deep and dim canal. The quiet waters had closed placidly over their victim;….She stood alone. Her small, bare, and silvery feet gleamed in the black mirror of marble beneath her. Her hair, not as yet more than half loosened for the night from its ball-room array, clustered, amid a shower of diamonds, round and round her classical head, in curls like those of the young hyacinth. A snowy-white and gauze-like drapery seemed to be nearly the sole covering to her delicate form; but the midsummer and midnight air was hot, sullen, and still, and no motion in the statue-like form itself, stirred even the folds of that raiment of very vapour which hung around it as the heavy marble hangs around the Niobe. Yet—strange to say!—her large lustrous eyes were not turned downwards upon that grave wherein her brightest hope lay buried— but riveted in a widely different direction! The prison of the Old Republic is, I think, the stateliest building in all Venice— but how could that lady gaze so fixedly upon it, when beneath her lay stifling her only child?….but now, from the interior of that dark niche which has been already mentioned as forming a part of the Old Republican prison, and as fronting the lattice of the Marchesa, a figure muffled in a cloak stepped out within reach of the light, and, pausing a moment upon the verge of the giddy descent, plunged headlong into the canal. As, in an instant afterwards, he stood with the still living and breathing child within his grasp…No word spoke the deliverer. But the Marchesa! She will now receive her child—she will press it to her heart—she will cling to its little form, and smother it with her caresses.And the Marchesa! Her lip—her beautiful lip trembles: tears are gathering in her eyes—those eyes which, like Pliny’s acanthus, are ‘soft and almost liquid’. Yes! tears are gathering in those eyes—and see! the entire woman thrills throughout thesoul, and the statue has started into life! The pallor of the marble countenance, the swelling of the marble bosom, the very purity of the marble feet, we behold suddenly flushed over with a tide of ungovernable crimson; and a slight shudder quivers about her delicate frame, as a gentle air at Napoli about the rich silver lilies in the grass.
Why should that lady blush!”
— Edgar Allan Poe - The Assignation
One of the most exciting parts in a A Song of Ice and Fire was discovering the story of the first Faceless Man and the close bound that tied him to the Dragon Lords and old Valyria as told by the Kindly man.
"We have flowered in Braavos amongst these northern fogs, but we first took root in Valyria, amongst the wretched slaves who toiled in the deep mines beneath the Fourteen Flames that lit the Freehold’s nights of old. Most mines are dank and chilly places, cut from cold dead stone, but the Fourteen Flames were living mountains with veins of molten rock and hearts of fire…;The dragonlords of the old Freehold were strong in sorcery, and lesser men defied them at their peril. The first Faceless Man was one who did……Some say he was a slave himself. Others insist he was a freeholder’s son, born of noble stock. Some will even tell you he was an overseer who took pity on his charges. The truth is, no one knows. Whoever he was, he moved amongst the slaves and would hear them at their prayers. Men of a hundred different nations labored in the mines, and each prayed to his own god in his own tongue, yet all were praying for the same thing. It was release they asked for, an end to pain. A small thing, and simple. Yet their gods made no answer, and their suffering went on. Are their gods all deaf? He wondered…until a realization came upon him, one night in the red darkness.
All gods have their instruments, men and women who serve them and help to work their will on earth. The slaves were not crying out to a hundred different gods, as it seemed, but to one god with a hundred different faces…and he was that god’s instrument. That very night he chose the most wretched of the slaves, the one who had prayed most earnestly for release, and freed him from his bondage. The first gift had been given.”
– Arya - A Feast for Crows ( p. 456-458)
Surely it is still slightly mysterious ,however it is clear that the First Faceless Man might have strongly been a slave in the mines of old Valyria ,the kindly man also added that he had brought the gift to the Masters as well (Dragon Lords).Therefore,I do assume that the Faceless men were in some way responsible for the doom of Valyria and dissapearence of magic/sorcery and dragons.
"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