The ship groaned and growled beneath him like a constipated fat man straining to shit. - George R. R. Martin

she whispered. Robb looked at her as if she’d gone mad. “Mother, stay here. I’ll come back as soon as the fire’s out.” He ran then. She heard him shout to the guards outside the room, heard them descending together in a wild rush, taking the stairs two and three at a time.

Lonely? Yes. But a solemn, brooding, tragic loneliness that a man hates with a passion — and yet loves so much he craves for more.

He wished he’d been able to think of some rousing last words. “Bugger you all” was not like to earn him much of a place in the histories.