Marthe Heylen > Marthe's Quotes

“Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory. If a soldier is imprisioned by the enemy, don't we consider it his duty to escape?. . .If we value the freedom of mind and soul, if we're partisans of liberty, then it's our plain duty to escape, and to take as many people with us as we can!”
― J.R.R. Tolkien

“We have been in the crucible, and come out as gold.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“I really do like tea!" James shouted from the bottom of the steps. "In fact, I love it! I LOVE TEA!"
"Good for you, mate!" yelled the driver of a passing ransom cab.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“Do not let any of them tell you who you are. You are the flame that cannot be put out. You are the star that cannot be lost. You are who you have always been, and that is enough and more than enough. Anyone who looks at you and sees darkness is blind.
- Jem Carstairs”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“Suddenly James was there, throwing an arm around her from behind. He seemed heedless of Cortana as he drew her back against him, whispering in her ear, "'Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor demons, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, shall be able to separate us.' Do you understand? Keep hold of me, Daisy. Keep hold of me and don't let go.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Iron

“You are who you have always been, and that is enough and more than enough.”
― Cassandra Clare, Nothing but Shadows

“Cordelia glanced down. She was scratched, but that was nothing to the spot in her heart where the knowledge that she was Lilith's paladin now bit like teeth. She couldn't look at James- she glanced over and saw Lucie, who was kneeling by Jesse's body. He lay where he had fallen, motionless and unbreathing. If he had not been truly dead before, he was now. Lucie looked utterly lost.
Cordelia closed her eyes, and hot tears spilled down her cheeks, scorching her skin.
"Daisy," she heard James say; she felt his stele brush over her arm, the faint sting and then the numbness of healing runes being applied. "Daisy, my love, I'm so sorry.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Iron

“I wasn't sure what you might like, so I just took things from all over the house. There's a copy of A Tail of Two Cities with the second half missing, so maybe it's only a tale of one city.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“Be quiet,” Belial snapped. “You, girl, do not matter. Your little talent with ghosts does not matter. When I heard you were born, I wept tears of fire, for you were female, and you could not see the shadow realms. You are useless, do you understand? Useless to me, to the world.”
But Lucie - slight and small, without a weapon in her hand - only looked at him steadily. “Talk all you want,” she said. “You certainly don’t matter. Only Jesse matters.”
― Cassandra Clare, The Anniversary Party, part 2

“But I am a paladin,” Cordelia cried. “It’s awful, I loathe it— don’t imagine that I feel anything other than hated for this thing that binds me to Lilith. But they fear me because of it. They dare not touch me—”
“Oh?” snarled James. “They dare not touch you? That’s not what it bloody looked like.”
“The demon at Chiswick House—it was about to tell me something about Belial, before you shot it.”
“Listen to yourself, Cordelia!” James shouted. “You are without Cortana! You cannot even lift a weapon! Do you know what it means to me, that you cannot protect yourself? Do you understand that I am terrified, every moment of every day and night, for your safety?”
Cordelia stood speechless. She had no idea what to say. She blinked, and felt something hot against her cheek. She put her hand up quickly—surely she was not crying?— and it came away scarlet.
“You’re bleeding,” James said. He closed the distance between them in two strides. He caught her chin and lifted it, his thumb stroking across her cheekbone. “Just a scratch,” he breathed. “Are you hurt anywhere else? Daisy, tell me—”
“No. I’m fine. I promise you,” she said, her voice wavering as his intent golden eyes spilled over her, searching for signs of injury. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s the furthest thing from nothing,” James rasped. “By the Angel, when I realized you’d gone out, at night, weaponless—”
“What were you even doing at the house? I thought you were staying at the Institute.”
“I came to get something for Jesse,” James said. “I took him shopping, with Anna—he needed clothes, but we forgot cuff links—”
“He did need clothes,” Cordelia agreed. “Nothing he had fit.”
“Oh, no,” said James. “We are not chatting. When I came in, I saw your dress in the hall, and Effie told me she’d caught a glimpse of you leaving. Not getting in a carriage, just wandering off toward Shepherd Market—”
“So you Tracked me?”
“I had no choice. And then I saw you—you had gone to where your father died,” he said after a moment. “I thought—I was afraid—”
“That I wanted to die too?” Cordelia whispered. It had not occurred to her that he might think that. “James. I may be foolish, but I am not self-destructive.”
“And I thought, had I made you as miserable as that? I have made so many mistakes, but none were calculated to hurt you. And then I saw what you were doing, and I thought, yes, she does want to die. She wants to die and this is how she’s chosen to do it.” He was breathing hard, almost gasping, and she realized how much of his fury was despair.
“James,” she said. “It was a foolish thing to do, but at no moment did I want to die—”
He caught at her shoulders. “You cannot hurt yourself, Daisy. You must not. Hate me, hit me, do anything you want to me. Cut up my suits and set fire to my books. Tear my heart into pieces, scatter them across England. But do not harm yourself—” He pulled her toward him, suddenly, pressing his lips to her hair, her cheek. She caught him by the arms, her fingers digging into his sleeves, holding him to her. “I swear to the Angel,” he said, in a muffled voice, “if you die, I will die, and I will haunt you. I will give you no peace—”
He kissed her mouth. Perhaps it had been meant to be a quick kiss, but she could not help herself: she kissed back. And it was like breathing air after being trapped underground for weeks, like coming into sunlight after darkness.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“Layla and Majnun - I sought not fire, yet my heart is all flame. Layla, this love is not of earth”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“Pity and kindness were not love. Only free choice was love; if he had learned nothing else from the horror of the bracelet, he had learned that.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“I know. Math, it's not a question of being perfect. What you are trying to do is incredibly difficult. You may falter at times. But I do not believe a moment of weakness is failure. Not as long as you keep trying.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“Get on top of me," he said, his voice barely recognizable to his own ears.

It was her turn to look surprised. "What-?"

“I am tied to the bed,” he said. “I cannot get up and kiss you, so I will have to sit here and kiss you. Which means I need you”—he held out his free arm, his gaze never leaving hers—“closer.” ...

"Tell me again what you want me to do," he said.

The smooth column of her throat moved as she swallowed. "Show me how to kiss," she said. "Properly.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Iron

“Her voice was low, husky; the voice that had read Layla and Majnun to him, so long ago. He had fallen in love with her then. He had loved her ever since, but had not known it; even in his blindness, though, her voice had sent disconcerting shivers up his spine.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“If it were not for you, my Daisy, I would have belonged to Belial long ago. For there is no one else in this world, my most beautiful, maddening, adorable wife, that I could ever have loved half as much as I have loved you. My heart beats for you," he said. "Only ever you.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“Arrested by a sudden thought. "Christopher, do you have a map of London?"
"I am a scientist," said Christopher, not a geographer! I don't have a map of London. I do have a beaker of Raum venom," he added, "but it's in my shoe, and will be difficult to reach."
"Does anyone have questions about that?" James said, glancing around. "No? Good. All right, a map-”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Iron

“After a careful look up and down the corridor, James ushered Cordelia down the stairs. But their covert escape was not to be: Will appeared suddenly on the landing, in the midst of fixing his cuff links, and beamed with delight to see Cordelia. “My dear,” he said. “A pleasure to see you. Have you come from Cornwall Gardens? How is your mother?”
“Oh, very well, thank you,” Cordelia said, then realized that if her mother really were in peak condition, she had little excuse for staying away from James and the Institute. “Well, she has been very tired, and of course we are all concerned that she get her energy back. Risa has been trying to build her back up again with many…soups.”
Soups? Cordelia was not at all sure why she’d said that. Perhaps because her mother had always told her that ash-e jo, a sour barley soup, could cure anything.
“Soups?”
“Soups,” Cordelia said firmly. “Risa’s caretaking is very thorough, though of course, my mother wishes me to be by her side as much as possible. I have been reading to her—”
“Oh, anything interesting? I’m always seeking a new book,” said Will, having finished with the cuff links. They were studded with yellow topaz. The color of James’s eyes.
“Ah—no,” said Cordelia. “Only very boring things, really. Books about…ornithology.” Will’s eyebrows went up, but James had already thrown himself into the fray.
“I really must get Cordelia back home,” he said, laying a hand on her back. It was an entirely ordinary husbandly gesture, not at all remarkable. It felt to Cordelia like being struck by lightning between her shoulder blades. “I’ll see you in a moment, Father.”
“Well Cordelia, we all hope you’ll be back before too long,” Will said. “James is positively pining away without you here. Incomplete without his better half, eh, James?” He went away up the stairs and down the corridor, whistling.
“Well,” said James after a long silence. “I thought, when I was ten years old and my father showed everyone the drawings I’d made of myself as Jonathan Shadowhunter, slaying a dragon, that was the most my parents would ever humiliate me. But that is no longer the case. There is a new champion.”
“Your father is something of a romantic, that’s all.”
“So you’ve noticed?”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“He lifted a sort of black cone attached to the wooden box. Immediately a voice, sounding as though it were yelling from the far end of a tunnel, bellowed, "Identify yourself!"
Will held the cone away from his head, looking pained.
James and Lucie exchanged a look. The voice was immediately identifiable: Albert Pangborn, the head of the Cornwall Institute. Lucie gleefully mimed her hands sticking together, to Jesse's puzzlement and a disapproving look from Tessa.
"This is Will Herondale." Will spoke into the mouthpiece slowly and clearly. "And you telephoned me.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“Will sat down beside his wife and pulled her into his lap. "I am going to kiss your mother not," he announced. "Flee if you will, children. If not, we could play Ludo when the romance is over."
"The romance is never over," said James glumly.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“I shall amuse you with a tale, then,” said Will. “The tale of my hellride with Balios from London to Cadair Idris, in Wales. Your mother, James, was missing—kidnapped by the miscreant Mortmain. I leaped into Balios’s saddle. ‘If ever you loved me, Balios,’ I cried, ‘let your feet now be swift, and carry me to my dear Tessa before harm befalls her.’ It was a stormy night, though the storm that raged inside my breast was fiercer still—”
“I can’t believe you haven’t heard this story before, James,” said Magnus, mildly. The two of them were sharing one side of the carriage, as it had become quickly apparent on the first day of their journey that Will needed the entire other side for dramatic gesturing.
It was very strange to have heard tales of Magnus all James’s life, and now to be traveling in close quarters with him. What he’d learned in their days of travel was that despite his elaborate costumes and theatrical airs, which had alarmed several innkeepers, Magnus was surprisingly calm and practical.
“I haven’t,” said James. “Not since last Thursday.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“James, you don’t need to tell us what you know. But we will put it together, regardless.” He glanced at Will. “Well, I shall; I can’t promise anything for your father. He’s always been slow.”
“But I have never worn a Russian hat with fur earflaps,” said Will, unlike some individuals currently present.”
“Mistakes have been made on all sides,” said Magnus. “James?”
“I do not own an earflap hat,” said James.
The two men glared at him.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“I feel as if there’s a gnome inside my head, banging away at my skull with an axe. I ought to give him a name. Something nice and gnomish. Snorgoth the Skullcrusher.”
“Now,” said James, “that was witty and charming. Think of Snorgoth. Think of him taking an axe to people you don’t like. The Inquisitor, for instance. Perhaps that can help you get through the party. Or—”
“Who is Snortgoth?” It was Eugenia, who had come up to them, her yellow cap askew on her dark hair. “Never mind. I am not interested in your dull friends. Matthew, will you dance with me?”
“Eugenia.” Matthew looked at her with weary affection. “I am not in a dancing mood.”
“Matthew.” Eugenia looked woebegone. “Piers keeps stepping on my feet, and Augustus is lurking about as if he wants a waltz, which I just can’t manage. One dance,” she wheedled. “You’re an excellent dancer, and I’d like to have a bit of fun.”
Matthew looked long-suffering but allowed Eugenia to lead him out onto the floor.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“I feel like I might be sick,” he said.
“That is what city pavement is for,” said James unrepentantly, putting the stele back in his pocket. “And you’re already steadier on your feet.”
“I really do not know why people say you are the nicer one of the two of us,” said Matthew. “It is clearly untrue.”
Under other circumstances, James would have smiled. He almost smiled now, despite everything, at hearing Matthew sound like himself. “No one says that. What they say is that I am the handsomer one.”
“That,” said Matthew, “is also clearly untrue.”
“And the better dancer.”
“James, this terrible habit of lying seems to have come on you suddenly. I am concerned, very concerned.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“I could never hate you, for all my hate is reserved for myself. I have none left for anyone else.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“Please recall that I am the pale neurasthenic one and you are the stern heroic one,” Matthew said to James. “It is very tedious when you mix up our roles.”
“So what is my role?” said Christopher.
“Mad inventor, of course,” said Matthew promptly. “And Thomas is the one with a good heart.”
“Lord, I sound dull,” said Thomas.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“A broad smile spread across Will’s face. “Then we have no choice but to give our blessing too. Cordelia Carstairs,” he said, “the Carstairs and the Herondales will be bonded even more closely now. If James could have chosen his wife from all the women in all the worlds that are or ever were, I would wish for no other.”
Tessa laughed. “Will! You cannot compliment our new daughter only on the chance of her last name!”
Will was grinning like a boy. “Wait until I tell Jem—”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“It would be ironic, Magnus thought, terribly and cruelly ironic, for one Herondale to be saved by love, and another Herondale damned by it.”
― Cassanda Clare

“James still had his book tucked under his arm, but Matthew knew better than to fight doomed battles”
― Cassandra Clare, Cast Long Shadows

“James eyed Matthew. “Thomas,” he said, in a low voice. “Maybe a healing rune?”
Thomas nodded and approached Matthew cautiously, as one might approach a stray cat on the street. Some time ago James had discovered that healing runes sobered Matthew up: not entirely, but enough.
“Push up your sleeve, then, there’s a good fellow,” Thomas said, seating himself on the arm of Matthew’s chair. “Let’s wake you up and James can tell us whatever mad thing he has planned.”
“It seems somehow blasphemous to use Marks to rid oneself of the effects of alcohol,” Matthew added, as Thomas put his stele away. The Mark in question gleamed, new-made, on Matthew’s wrist. He looked already more clear-eyed, and less as if he were about to fall asleep or be sick.
“I’ve seen you use your stele to part your hair,” said James dryly, as he began to examine the window locks.
“The Angel gave me this hair,” replied Matthew. “It’s one of the Shadowhunters’ gifts. Like the Mortal Sword.”
“Now that is blasphemy,” said Thomas.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold