She woke aching and alone and weary; weary of riding, weary of hurting, weary of duty. I want to weep, she thought. I want to be comforted. I’m so tired of being strong. I want to be foolish and frightened for once. Just for a small while, that’s all…a day…an hour (a storm of swords)

I want …” Catelyn hung her head. “I want,” she said once more, and then her words were gone. (a clash of kings)