Eda E. Durşen

“Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell's grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan's stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow's smile. He used to mess my hair and call me "little sister," she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Feast for Crows

“[...]the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!”
― Jack Kerouac, On the Road

“Beni bir gün unutacaksan, bir gün bırakıp gideceksen, boşuna yorma derdi; boş yere mağaramdan çıkarma beni. Alışkanlıklarımı özellikle yalnızlığa alışkanlığımı kaybettirme boşuna. Tedirgin etme beni. Bu sefer geride bir şey bırakmadım. Tasımı tarağımı topladım geldim. Neyim var neyim yoksa ortaya döktüm. Beni bırakırsan sudan çıkmış balığa dönerim. Bir kere çavuş olduktan sonra bir daha amelelik yapamayan zavallı köylüye dönerim. Beni uyandır.”
― Oğuz Atay, Tutunamayanlar

“And Arya… he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful. Arya never seemed to fit, no more than he had… yet she could always make Jon smile. He would give anything to be with her now, to muss up her hair once more and watch her make a face, to hear her finish a sentence with him.”
― George R.R. Martin