“Knights don’t cry.” “They certainly do,” said the Comandante, taking the boy’s hand, “but only when they are clean and dressed, and wearing shoes. Do you think you can wait that long?” “I’ll do my best.”

“I’ll get you another red dress.”She wiped the backs of her hands over her cheeks at the snarl. “You will?”He glared down at her. “Yes. But you must not cry. I won’t get you any dresses if you cry.”“I don’t normally cry.”“You will never do it.”“Well, I’m afraid I may sometimes,” she said apologetically. “Women need to cry.”Lines formed between his brows. “How many times in a year?”“Maybe five or six,” she said, thinking about it. “But really, it’s usually a very small cry and not in front of anyoneAt that, his scowl grew even darker. “I will permit you to cry four times a year. And you will do it when I am here.”

“Listen, life’s too short to let sadness overpower you for long periods of time. Like you said, ‘Everyone dies.’ I felt my emotions, cried my tears, and then came to peace about it. You don’t ever ‘get over’ something like that,” she said, adding air quotes. “Al you can do is embrace the experience and do your best to go on.”

“I’ll wait for you to find me again. So don’t take too long.”

“I love the juice but I loathe sticky fingers. Clean hands, Sansa. Whatever you do, make certain your hands are clean.”

“I’ll tell you one thing I know for sure,” he’d said. “You only have one life. Whatever you decide to do, you should try and be happy. Don’t be afraid to take risks.”