I want a movie where literally everyone dies. Everyone. Like by some wild natural disaster or something.
It’s just like an hour and a half of showing desolated countries and cities and whatnot. There are no humans left.
And then, with thirty seconds of film left, Sean Bean crawls out from underneath the rubble of a fallen building and starts laughing.
The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you would
take a man’s life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his
final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man
does not deserve to die.
“Let me tell you something about wolves, child. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Summer is the time for squabbles. In winter, we must protect one another, keep each other warm, share our strengths. So if you must hate, Arya, hate those who would truly do us harm. Septa Mordane is a good woman, and Sansa… Sansa is your sister. You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needs you… and I need both of you, gods help me." He sounded so tired that it made Arya sad. "I don’t hate Sansa,” she told him. “Not truly.”
“I’m supposed to marry Prince Joffrey. He’ll be the greatest king that ever was, a golden lion. And I’ll give him sons with beautiful blond hair.” Sansa said. Eddard closed his eyes, squeezing his daughters shoulder with his right hand, “I’m sorry to tell you this Sansa, but Joffrey dyes his hair.” Sansa’s eyes filled with tears, “No! No father, this can’t be!”
The blood of the First Men still flows in the veins of the Starks, and we hold to the belief that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you would take a man’s life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words