cassandra-clare

The door buzzer sounded again. The two boys exchanged a single look before both bolting down the narrow hallway to the door. Jordan got there first. He grabbed for the coatrack that stood by the door, ripped the coats off it, and flung the door wide, the rack held aboe his head like a javelin. On the other side of the door was Jace. He blinked. "Is that a coatrack?"Jordan slammed the coatrack down on the ground and sighed. "If you'd been a vampire, this would have been a lot more useful.""Yes," said Jace. "Or, you know, just someone with a lot of coats.

She made an impatient noise. "By the Angel, you don't know anything about your kid, do you? Do you even really know how vampires are made?""Well, when a mommy vampire and a daddy vampire love each other very much ...

Keep up," said an irritable voice in her ear. It was Jace, who had dropped back to walk beside her. "I don't want to have to keep looking behind me to make sure nothing's happened to you.""So don't bother.""Last time I left you alone, a demon attacked you," he pointed out. "Well, I'd certainly hate to interrupt your pleasant night stroll with my sudden death."He blinked. "There is a fine line between sarcasm and outright hostility, and you seem to have crossed it.

Though Alec had never seen the occupants of the first floor loft, they seemed to be engaged in a tempestuous romance. Once there had been a bunch of someone's belongings strewn all over the landing with a note attached to a jacket lapel addressed to "A lying liar who lies." Right now there was a bouquet of flowers taped to the door with a card tucked among the blooms that read I'M SORRY. That was the thing about New York: you always knew more about your neighbors' business than you wanted to.

That's your truck parked up by the factory isn't it?" Magnus pointed. "It's awfully butch for a bookseller.

So it's true what they say about warlocks,

Wait a second," Clary said."I never understand why people say that," Luke said, to no one in particular. "I wasn't going anywhere.

If you're texting Magnus to say 'I think u r kewl' I'm going to kill you

Dear God . . . the dread hour is nigh." - Jace Wayland

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.

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

Hate is nothing when weighed against survival. (Valentine)

She could ask for anything, she thought dizzily, anything--an end to pain or world hunger or disease, or for peace on earth. But then again, perhaps these things weren't in the power of angels to grant, or they would already have been granted. And perhaps people were supposed to find these things for themselves.

And when I saw him[my father] lying dead in a pool of his own blood, 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 be not. Either way, we're on our own.

I think everyone is strong and weak in different ways.

Antonio: Will you stay no longer? nor will you not that I go with you? Sebastian: By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompense for your love to lay any of them on you.