No Man Should Live Longer Than His

When You Know What A Man Wants You Know Who He Is, And How To Move Him.

Perhaps I Will Die Too, She Told Herself, And The Thought Did Not Seem So Terrible To Her. If She Flung Herself From The Window, She Could Put An End To Her Suffering, And In The Years To Come The Singers Would Write Songs Of Her Grief. Her Body Would Lie On The Stones Below, Broken And Innocent, Shaming All Those Who Had Betrayed Her. Sansa Went So Far As To Cross The Bedchamber And Throw Open The Shutters ... But Then Her Courage Left Her, And She Ran Back To Her Bed, Sobbing.

We Read Fantasy To Find The Colors Again, I Think. To Taste Strong Spices And Hear The Songs The Sirens Sang.

Of All The Bright Cruel Lies They Tell You, The Cruelest Is The One Called Love.

They Are Children, Sansa Thought. They Are Silly Little Girls, Even Elinor. They’ve Never Seen A Battle, They’ve Never Seen A Man Die, They Know Nothing. Their Dreams Were Full Of Songs And Stories, The Way Hers Had Been Before Joffrey Cut Her Fathers Head Off. Sansa Pitied Them. Sansa Envied Them.