Black hair and blue eyes are my favorite combination.
It's the mortal cup Jace, not the mortal toilet bowl.
In the end that was the choice you made, and it doesn't matter how hard it was to make it. It matters that you did.
And next time you're planning to injure yourself to get me attention, just remember that a little sweet talk works wonders.
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.
He made a sound like a choked laughed before he reached out and pulled her into her arms. She was aware of Luke watching them from the window, but she shut her eyes resolutely and buried her face against Jace's shoulder. He smelled of salt and blood, and only when his mouth came close to her ear did she understand what he was saying, and it was the simplest litany of all: her name, just her name.
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
Now very much against her will, she thought of the way Jace had looked at her then, the blaze of faith in his eyes, his belief in her. He had always thought she was strong. He had showed it in everything he did, in every look and every touch. Simon had faith in her too, yet when he'd held her, it had been as if she were something fragile, something made of delicate glass. But Jace had held her with all the strength he had, never wondering if she could take it--he'd known she was as strong has he was.
She leaned forward and caught at his hand, pressing it between her own. The touch was like white fire through his veins. He could not feel her skin only the cloth of her gloves, and yet it did not matter. You kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire. He had wondered once why love was always phrased in terms of burning. The conflagration in his own veins, now, gave the answer.
to love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed.
There are memories that time does not erase... Forever does not make loss forgettable, only bearable.
There was beauty in the idea of freedom, but it was an illusion. Every human heart was chained by love.
When you love someone, you don't have a choice. Love takes your choices away. - Clary Fray
Of course he loves me. I’m his sister.” “Blood isn’t love,” said Magnus, and his voice was bitter.
Looking at him now-even if she hadn't been in love with him, that part of her that was her mother's daugher, that loved every beautiful thing for its beauty alone, would still have wanted him.
These pictures are my heart. And if my heart was a canvas, every square inch of it would be painted over with you.
You had to know a person well to make them laugh like that.
But maybe you never really had someone, she thought now. Maybe, no matter how much you loved them, they could slip through your fingers like water, and there was nothing you could do about it.
She had loved him for such a long time, she thought. How was it that she did now know him at all?
Every time I think I'm missing a piece of me, you give it back.
