“They saw her husband, this giant of a man in God’s Kingdom, this man, that for over fifteen years was their example of what a great man and husband looked like, walking up to his weeping wife, gently embracing her, soothing her, lifting and holding her soul up high while she released her own pains and worries from the last two days, feeling him, leaning into him, and submitting her pain and fears to her husband out of her love and trust. His strength was shown in his softness. He was made strong in his wife’s pain. He was her man of God”

“You’re killing me," he told her, panting, his palms sliding down over her ribs to explore the rest of her shape—her waist, her hips, her thighs. "Killing me by inches." He lifted his body from hers enough to yank up her skirt. "But it’s a damn fine way for a man to die.”

“Ramrod felt a great sadness building up, deep within. There were no words to express his feeling of loss. The sorrow rose up from the pit of his stomach and caught in his throat. He had a strangled ejaculation buried deep down in his soul. Yes, Ramrod missed his wife very, very much. He missed the warmth of her breasts pressed up against him in the night. He even missed her cold feet. And he especially missed her bedtime facial. Yes, it’s true—he missed her eyes, he missed her mouth. He had trouble remembering how she wore her hair the last time he saw her, and he missed that, too. It’s like, where Love was concerned, Ramrod’s aim wasn’t very good. Yes, life was becoming very, very hard on Ramrod. ”

“A wife should submit herself to her husband, her husband should make her great if he wants to enjoy her.”

“What else she doesn't know: that the man next to her would end up being her husband and the father of her two children, that after two years together he would leave her, her third and final heartbreak, and she would never love again.”

“His gaze swept over her, hot and approving, as he lifted her up. “Wrap your legs around me— There. God, yeah, like that—” His voice was a low command, caressing her as much as his hands. “Hold on to me.” Then his mouth crushed her own as he pushed her back against the door.She threaded her hands into his hair as he thrust deep inside of her. He made a rough sound of sheer male pleasure, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as she rocked into him. Again he thrust, slowly at first, teasing until she was begging. It was glorious torment, hot and demanding, just like the man kissing her.”

“Arya lifted her gaze from the dead man and his dead dog. Jaqen H'ghar was leaning up against the side of the Wailing Tower. When he saw her looking, he lifted a hand to his face and laid two fingers casually against his cheek.”