Cassandra Clare

They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite

There are some kinds of wounds you can get, internal injuries. You don't know what's wrong with you, but you're bleeding to death slowly inside.

We are all the pieces of what we remember. We hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss.

She knew how breakups went from hearing other girls complain about them. First the pulling away, the gradual refusal to return notes or phone calls. The vague messages saying nothing was wrong, that the other person just needed a little space. Then the speech about how "It's not you, it's me." Then the crying part.She'd never thought any of that would apply to her and Jace. What they had wasn't ordinary, or subject to the ordinary rules of relationships and breakups. They belonged to each other totally, and always will, and that was that.But maybe everyone felt that way? Until the moment they realized they were just like everyone else, and everyone they'd thought was real shattered apart.

Words were weapons, his father had taught him that, and he'd wanted to hurt Clary more than he'd ever wanted to hurt any girl. In fact, he wasn't sure he had ever wanted to hurt a girl before. Usually he just wanted them, and then he wanted them to leave him alone.

And now I__ looking at you,_ he said, __nd you__e asking me if I still want you, as if I could stop loving you. As if I would want to give up the thing that makes me stronger than anything else ever has. I never dared give much of myself to anyone before _ bits of myself to the Lightwoods, to Isabelle and Alec, but it took years to do it _ but, Clary, since the first time I saw you, I have belonged to you completely. I still do. If you want me.

He knew Alec enough by now to know the conflicting impulses that warred in him. He was conscientious, the kind of person who believed that the others around him were so much more important than he was, who already believed he was letting everybody down. And he was honest, the kind of person that was naturally open about all he felt and wanted. Alec's virtues had made a trap for him; these two good qualities had collided painfully. He felt he could not be honest without disappointing everyone he loved. It was a hideous conundrum for him. It was as if the world had been designed to make him unhappy.

Mundane education is regrettably prosaic," - Jace Lightwood-Herondale

I've screwed everything up royally. I remember you saying that growing up happens when you start having things you look back on and wish you could change.

The world is terrible," said Mark tonelessly. "And some are drawn down into it and drown there, and some rise above and carry others with them.

Jace?""Yeah?""How did you know I had Shadowhunter blood? Was there some way you could tell?"The elevator arrived with a final groan. Jace unlatched the gate and slid it open. The inside reminded Clary of a birdcage, all black metal and decorative bits of gilt. "I guessed," he said, latching the door behind them. "It seemed like the most likely explanation.""You guessed? You must have been pretty sure, considering you could have killed me."He pressed a button in the wall, and the elevator lurched into action with a vibrating groan that she felt all through the bones in her feet. "I was ninety percent sure.""I see," Clary said.There must have been something in her voice, because he turned to look at her. Her hand cracked across his face, a slap that rocked him back on his heels. He put a hand to his cheek, more in surprise than pain. "What the hell was that for?"The other ten percent," she said, and they rode the rest of the way down to the street in silence.

Everything changes in my life, and the world stays the same.

Being a vampire is not a curse. It__ a disease,_ Tessa filled in. __ut they still can__ enter hallowed ground, then? Does that mean they__e damned?_ __hat depends on what you believe,_ said Jem. __nd whether you believe in damnation at all._ __ut you hunt demons. You must believe in damnation!_ __ believe in good and evil,_ said Jem. __nd I believe the soul is eternal. I don__ believe in the fiery pit, the pitchforks, or the endless torment. I do not believe you can threaten people into goodness.

I knew then that I hadn't stopped believing in God. I'd just stopped believing God cared. There might be a God, Clary, and there might not, but I don't think it matters. Either way we're on our own.

I believe in good and evil," said Jem. "And I believe the soul is eternal. But I don't believe in the fiery pit, the pitchforks, or endless torment. I do not believe you can threaten people into goodness."Tessa looked at will. "What about you? What do you believe?"Pulvis et umbra sumus," said Will, not looking at her as he spoke. "I believe we are dust and shadows. What else is there?

If there's a thing I've learned in my life it's to not be afraid of the responsibility that comes with caring for other people. What we do for love: those things endure. Even if the people you do them for don't

She supposed they were imperfections, those marks, but they didn't feel that way to her; they were a history, cut into his body: the map of a life of endless war.

Hate is nothing when weighed against survival. (Valentine)