When I first signed on to play Tommen, I started speculating about when he was going to die. I sort of knew he wouldn't be the last one on the throne, but Tommen doesn't really deserve to have his throat slit or his stomach jabbed. In a way, Tommen died the way he was - it was a peaceful death.

My particular aesthetic of light and color and design wouldn't change as a result of working with computer graphics rather than with slit scan or miniatures.

There were times we were kept in our dressing room until late at night because it wasn't safe to go home. Our bus would get attacked, the tires slit.

'21' was the place, and you went down, and they opened the door. They had a little slit they'd look through, and then you'd murmur the password or whatever it was you had, showed a little ticket, and if they remembered who you were, you went in.

The concern we have is that if somebody from our side gets captured they are going to get their throats slit.

It's such a great feeling to make people laugh. I know I've made people cry or want to slit their wrists, but to make people laugh is a very intoxicating, wonderful thing.

I'm a big fan of a slit on a dress, so it's always worth having a little look in the mirror just before you go out to see where your limits are and just how far you can pull the leg out if you're posing.

The trouble with ecological invocations of Nature is that they're like calling for a medieval tool, perhaps a portcullis or an arrow slit, to fix a modern problem.

Before I would hurt a child, I would slit my wrists.