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.
"Santana, Brittany and I knew each other so well that I could tell by the slightest quiver in Santana’s upper lip which way we were gonna move. Whether our hips are gonna shake or shimmy…. It’s about being individuals, you know, we’re all different. But it’s also about synchronicity." - Quinn Fabray