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“And now I’m looking at you,” he said, “and you’re 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.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass

“Do you remember,” he said, “when we first met and I told you I was ninety percent sure putting a rune on you wouldn’t kill you—and you slapped me in the face and told me it was for the other ten percent?” Clary nodded.
“I always figured a demon would kill me,” he said. “A rogue Downworlder. A battle. But I realized then that I just might die if I didn’t get to kiss you, and soon.” Clary licked her dry lips. “Well, you did,” she said. “Kiss me, I mean.”
He reached up and took a curl of her hair between his fingers. He was close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body, smell his soap and skin and hair.
“Not enough,” he said, letting her hair slip through his fingers. “If I kiss you all day every day for the rest of my life, it won’t be enough.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

“While this is all very amusing, the kiss that will free the girl is the kiss that she most desires,” she said. “Only that and nothing more.”

Jace’s heart started to pound. He met the Queen’s eyes with his own. “Why are you doing this?”

… “Desire is not always lessened by disgust…And as my words bind my magic, so you can know the truth. If she doesn’t desire your kiss, she won’t be free.”

“You don’t have to do this, Clary, it’s a trick—” (Simon)

...Isabelle sounded exasperated. ‘Who cares, anyway? It’s just a kiss.”

“That’s right,” Jace said. Clary looked up, then finally, and her wide green eyes rested on him. He moved toward her... and put his hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him… He could feel the tension in his own body, the effort of holding back, of not pulling her against him and taking this one chance, however dangerous and stupid and unwise, and kissing her the way he had thought he would never, in his life, be able to kiss her again. “It’s just a kiss,” he said, and heard the roughness in his own voice, and wondered if she heard it, too.

Not that it mattered—there was no way to hide it. It was too much. He had never wanted like this before... She understood him, laughed when he laughed, saw through the defenses he put up to what was underneath. There was no Jace Wayland more real than the one he saw in her eyes when she looked at him… All he knew was that whatever he had to owe to Hell or Heaven for this chance, he was going to make it count.

He...whispered in her ear. “You can close your eyes and think of England, if you like,” he said.
Her eyes fluttered shut, her lashes coppery lines against her pale, fragile skin. “I’ve never even been to England,” she said, and the softness, the anxiety in her voice almost undid him. He had never kissed a girl without knowing she wanted it too, usually more than he did, and this was Clary, and he didn’t know what she wanted. Her eyes were still closed, but she shivered, and leaned into him — barely, but it was permission enough.

His mouth came down on hers. And that was it. All the self-control he’d exerted over the past weeks went, like water crashing through a broken dam. Her arms came up around his neck and he pulled her against him… His hands flattened against her back... and she was up on the tips of her toes, kissing him as fiercely as he was kissing her... He clung to her more tightly, knotting his hands in her hair, trying to tell her, with the press of his mouth on hers, all the things he could never say out loud...

His hands slid down to her waist... he had no idea what he would have done or said next, if it would have been something he could never have pretended away or taken back, but he heard a soft hiss of laughter — the Faerie Queen — in his ears, and it jolted him back to reality. He pulled away from Clary before he it was too late, unlocking her hands from around his neck and stepping back... Clary was staring at him. Her lips were parted, her hands still open. Her eyes were wide. Behind her, Alec and Isabelle were gaping at them; Simon looked as if he was about to throw up.

...If there had ever been any hope that he could have come to think of Clary as just his sister, this — what had just happened between them — had exploded it into a thousand pieces... He tried to read Clary’s face — did she feel the same? … I know you felt it, he said to her with his eyes, and it was half bitter triumph and half pleading. I know you felt it, too…She glanced away from him... He whirled on the Queen. “Was that good enough?” he demanded. “Did that entertain you?”

The Queen gave him a look: special and secretive and shared between the two of them. “We are quite entertained," she said. “But not, I think, so much as the both of you.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes

“I am, in the end, what you made me.”
― Cassandra Clare

“All I know is that I love you. And for the first time, that's good enough.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

“Once there was a boy,” said Jace.

Clary interrupted immediately. “A Shadowhunter boy?”

“Of course.” For a moment a bleak amusement colored his voice. Then it was gone. “When the boy was six years old, his father gave him a falcon to train. Falcons are raptors – killing birds, his father told him, the Shadowhunters of the sky.

“The falcon didn’t like the boy, and the boy didn’t like it, either. Its sharp beak made him nervous, and its bright eyes always seemed to be watching him. It would slash at him with beak and talons when he came near: For weeks his wrists and hands were always bleeding. He didn’t know it, but his father had selected a falcon that had lived in the wild for over a year, and thus was nearly impossible to tame. But the boy tried, because his father told him to make the falcon obedient, and he wanted to please his father.

“He stayed with the falcon constantly, keeping it awake by talking to it and even playing music to it, because a tired bird was meant to be easier to tame. He learned the equipment: the jesses, the hood, the brail, the leash that bound the bird to his wrist. He was meant to keep the falcon blind, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it – instead he tried to sit where the bird could see him as he touched and stroked its wings, willing it to trust him. Hee fed it from his hand, and at first it would not eat. Later it ate so savagely that its beak cut the skin of his palm. But the boy was glad, because it was progress, and because he wanted the bird to know him, even if the bird had to consume his blood to make that happen.

“He began to see that the falcon was beautiful, that its slim wings were built for the speed of flight, that it was strong and swift, fierce and gentle. When it dived to the ground, it moved like likght. When it learned to circle and come to his wrist, he neary shouted with delight Sometimes the bird would hope to his shoulder and put its beak in his hair. He knew his falcon loved him, and when he was certain it was not just tamed but perfectly tamed, he went to his father and showed him what he had done, expecting him to be proud.

“Instead his father took the bird, now tame and trusting, in his hands and broke its neck. ‘I told you to make it obedient,’ his father said, and dropped the falcon’s lifeless body to the ground. ‘Instead, you taught it to love you. Falcons are not meant to be loving pets: They are fierce and wild, savage and cruel. This bird was not tamed; it was broken.’

“Later, when his father left him, the boy cried over his pet, until eventually his father sent a servant to take the body of the bird away and bury it. The boy never cried again, and he never forgot what he’d learned: that to love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“Ugh," he said after a few swallows. "Dead blood."
Jace's eyebrows went up. " Isn't all blood dead?"
"The longer the animal whose blood I'm drinking has been dead, the worse the blood tastes," Simon explained. "Fresh is better."
"But you've never drunk fresh blood. Have you?"
Simon raised his own eyebrows in response.
"Well, aside from mine, of course," Jace said. "And I'm sure my blood is fan-tastic.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass

“Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Fallen Angels

“You know how the bonds of family are, my lady... They cling as tightly as vines. And sometimes, like vines, they cling tightly enough to kill.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes

“But the Silent Brothers have tried everything to separate Jace from the Heavenly fire, and they can't do it. It's in his soul. So what's their plan, hitting Sebastian over the head with Jace until he passes out?”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“I’d do it all over again, knowing that you were going to be there at the end. I’d walk through the sadness and the loneliness all over again for you.”
― Kimberly Lauren, Beautiful Broken Mess

“See, Jace never learned how to flirt properly, because he was raised by a murderous sociopath.”
― Diana Peterfreund, Shadowhunters and Downworlders: A Mortal Instruments Reader

“I don’t want to feed on my friends’ blood.”
“Why not?” Jace stepped past the fire and looked down at Simon; his expression was open and curious. “We’ve been here before, haven’t we? Last time you were starving, I gave you my blood. It was a little homoerotic, maybe, but I’m secure in my sexuality.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“I swear, I almost died back there on that ship, you know."
He let her hand go, but he was staring at her, almost as if he meant to memorize her face. " I know," he said. "everytime you almost die, I almost die myself.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes

“Isabelle: Do you want some soup?
Jace: No
Isabelle: Do you think Hodge will want some soup?
Jace: No one wants soup
Simon: I want some soup!
Jace: No, you don't. You just want to sleep with Isabelle”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“I'm just saying that I think I chose to act the way I did in part because of you. Since I've met you, everything I've done has been in part because of you. I can't untie myself from you, Clary - not my heart or my blood or my mind or any other part of me. And I don't want to.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass

“I swear on the Angel.” He ducked his head down, kissed her cheek. “The hell with that.
I swear on us.”
Clary wound her fingers into the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Why us?”
“Because there isn’t anything I believe in more.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Fallen Angels

“"Get it you will. Worry you don't," he said in a weird voice.
"Are you possessed?" Aislynn asked, making Jace throw back his head in laughter. "Did you just develop a speech impediment? Oh my God! Are you having a stroke? Is that why you can't talk right?"
"Yoda is going to be so pissed. May the force protect you, because he sure won't.”
― Phoebe Lane, Cursive

“And I remind you of your mother now? I have got to look into a manlier cologne.”
― Cassandra Clare

“Oooh, that was fun."
"That does it," said Jace. "I'm going to get you a dictionary for Christmas this year."
"Why?" Isabelle said.
"So you can look up 'fun.' I'm not sure you know what it means.”
― Cassandra Clare

“Have you fallen in love with the wrong person yet?'
Jace said, "Unfortunately, Lady of the Haven, my one true love remains myself."
..."At least," she said, "you don't have to worry about rejection, Jace Wayland."
"Not necessarily. I turn myself down occasionally, just to keep it interesting.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“Is this the part where you start tearing off strips of your shirt to bind my wounds?"
"If you wanted me to rip my clothes off, you should have just asked.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“To my son,
If you are reading this letter, then I am dead.

I expect to die, if not today, then soon. I expect that Valentine will kill me. For all his talk of loving me, for all his desire for a right-hand man, he knows that I have doubts. And he is a man who cannot abide doubt.
I do not know how you will be brought up. I do not know what they will tell you about me. I do not even know who will give you this letter. I entrust it to Amatis, but I cannot see what the future holds. All I know is that this is my chance to give you an accounting of a man you may well hate.
There are three things you must know about me. The first is that I have been a coward. Throughout my life I have made the wrong decisions, because they were easy, because they were self-serving, because I was afraid.
At first I believed in Valentine’s cause. I turned from my family and to the Circle because I fancied myself better than Downworlders and the Clave and my suffocating parents. My anger against them was a tool Valentine bent to his will as he bent and changed so many of us. When he drove Lucian away I did not question it but gladly took his place for my own. When he demanded I leave Amatis, the woman I love, and marry Celine, a girl I did not know, I did as he asked, to my everlasting shame.
I cannot imagine what you might be thinking now, knowing that the girl I speak of was your mother. The second thing you must know is this. Do not blame Celine for any of this, whatever you do. It was not her fault, but mine. Your mother was an innocent from a family that brutalized her. She wanted only kindess, to feel safe and loved. And though my heart had been given already, I loved her, in my fashion, just as in my heart, I was faithful to Amatis. Non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cynarae. I wonder if you love Latin as I do, and poetry. I wonder who has taught you.
The third and hardest thing you must know is that I was prepared to hate you. The son of myslef and the child-bride I barely knew, you seemed to be the culmination of all the wrong decisions I had made, all the small compromises that led to my dissolution. Yet as you grew inside my mind, as you grew in the world, a blameless innocent, I began to realize that I did not hate you. It is the nature of parents to see their own image in their children, and it was myself I hated, not you.
For there is only one thing I wan from you, my son — one thing from you, and of you. I want you to be a better man than I was. Let no one else tell you who you are or should be. Love where you wish to. Believe as you wish to. Take freedom as your right.
I don’t ask that you save the world, my boy, my child, the only child I will ever have. I ask only that you be happy.

Stephen”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

“Being a Silent Brother is life, Clary Fray. But if you mean I remember my life before the Brotherhood, I do.
Clary took a deep breath. “Were you ever in love? Before the Brotherhood? Was there ever anyone you would have died for?”
There was a long silence. Then:
Two people, said Brother Zachariah. There are memories that time does not erase, Clarissa. Ask your friend Magnus Bane, if you do not believe me. Forever does not make loss forgettable, only bearable.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

“She tried to fancy what the flame of a candle is like after the candle is blown out, for she could not remember ever having seen such a thing.”
― Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland / Through the Looking-Glass

“Reading a novel was like returning to a once-beloved holiday destination.”
― Liane Moriarty, Big Little Lies

“Every day I think, ‘Gosh, you look a bit tired today,’ and it’s just recently occurred to me that it’s not that I’m tired, it’s that this is the way I look now.”
― Liane Moriarty, Big Little Lies

“Oh, calamity!”
― Liane Moriarty, Big Little Lies

“Nothing and nobody could aggravate you the way your child could aggravate you.”
― Liane Moriarty, Big Little Lies

“women are like the Olympic athletes of grudges.”
― Liane Moriarty, Big Little Lies