Cassandra Clare

Because that which was new was almost always temporary. And that which was temporary broke your heart.

We who are immortal, we are chained to this life by a chain of gold, and we dare not sever it for fear of what lies beyond the drop.

He remembered running through the streets of Alicante with Tavvy in his arms, stumbling on the cracked paving. trying to keep his little brother's face mashed against his shoulder so that he wouldn't see the blood and death all around him.

I__ just surprised your parents let you go online,_ Call said. It was such a regular, non-fancy way to waste time. When he imagined her outside the Magisterium, having fun, he imagined her riding a polo pony, although he wasn__ exactly sure what that was or how it was different from a regular pony.

Well, I want novels,' said Tessa. 'Or poetry. Books are for reading, not for turning oneself into livestock.' Will's eyes glittered. 'I think we may have a cope of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland about somewhere.' Tessa wrinkled her nose. 'Oh, that's for little children, isn't it?' she said. "I never liked it much-seemed like so much nonsense.' Will's eyes were very blue. 'There's plenty of sense in nonsense sometimes, if you wish to look for it.

Idris had been green and gold and russet in the autumn, when Clary had first been there. It had a stark grandeur in the winter: the mountains rose in the distance, capped white with snow, and the trees along the side of the road that led back to Alicante from the lake were stripped bare, their leafless branches making lace-like patterns against the bright sky.Sometimes Jace would slow the horse to point out the manor houses of the richer Shadowhunter families, hidden from the road when the trees were full but revealed now. She felt his shoulders tense as they passed one that nearly melded with the forest around it: it had clearly been burned and rebuilt. Some of the stones still bore the black marks of smoke and fire. __he Blackthorn manor,_ he said. __hich means that around this bend in the road is _ He paused as Wayfarer summited a small hill, and reined him in so they could look down to where the road split in two. One direction led back toward Alicante _ Clary could see the demon towers in the distance _ while the other curled down toward a large building of mellow golden stone, surrounded by a low wall. _ _ the Herondale manor,_ Jace finished.The wind picked up; icy, it ruffled Jace__ hair. Clary had her hood up, but he was bare-headed and bare-handed, having said he hated wearing gloves when horseback riding. He liked to feel the reins in his hands. __id you want to go and look at it?_ she asked.His breath came out in a white cloud. ____ not sure.

Love?_ Michael smiled down at his hands. __ove, real love, is being seen. Being known. Knowing the ugliest part of someone, and loving them anyway. And_._._. I guess I think two people in love become something else, something more than the sum of their parts, you know? That it must be like you__e creating a new world that exists just for the two of you. You__e gods of your own pocket universe._ He laughed a little then, as if he felt foolish. __hat must sound ridiculous._ __o,_ Robert said, the truth dawning over him. Michael didn__ talk like someone who was guessing__e talked like someone who knew.

You are a great deal of trouble, Jace herondale. __o I__e been told_ jace said

Ragnor [was] always happy to see chaos, but not be involved in it.

One does no question miracles, or complain that they are no constructed perfectly to one's liking.

Magnus began to be truly alarmed. Will's voice would have shaken, betraying that his cruelty had been part of his playacting, but his son's laugh was that of someone genuinely delighted by the chaos erupting all around him

Everyone has something they can't live without.

She was afraid of nothing and demanded everything.

Every time you rip the bandages off, you just open the wound up again. Every time he sees you, it's like tearing off the bandages.

Magnus looked away, so as not to see the wreckage. "I wish you luck," he said. "Luck and love." Edmund made a small bow. "I bid you good day. I think we will not meet again." He walked away, into the inner reaches of the Institute. A few feet away, he wavered and paused, light from one of the narrow church windows turning his hair rich gold, and Magnus thought he would turn. But Edmund Herondale never looked back.

When the fey were worried, it was time to panic.

He had to escape. He had to go and become a hero, the way he had been once.

It is always better to live the truth than to live a lie.