Abby

“Catarina hooked her hand around Magnus’s elbow and hauled him away, like a schoolteacher with a misbehaving student. They entered a narrow alcove around the corner, where the music and noise of the party was muffled. She rounded on him.
“I recently treated Tessa for wounds she said were inflicted on her by members of a demon-worshipping cult,” Catarina said. “She told me you were, and I quote, ‘handling’ the cult. What’s going on? Explain.”
Magnus made a face. “I may have had a hand in founding it.”
“How much of a hand?”
“Well, both.”
Catarina bristled. “I specifically told you not to do that!”
“You did?” Magnus said. A bubble of hope grew within him. “You remember what happened?”
She gave him a look of distress. “You don’t?”
“Someone took all my memories around the subject of this cult,” said Magnus. “I don’t know who, or why.”
He sounded more desperate than he would’ve liked, more desperate than he wanted to be. His old friend’s face was full of sympathy.
“I don’t know anything about it,” she said. “I met up with you and Ragnor for a brief vacation. You seemed troubled, but you were trying to laugh it off, the way you always do. You and Ragnor said you had a brilliant idea to start a joke cult. I told you not to do it. That’s it.”
He, Catarina, and Ragnor had taken many trips together, over the centuries. One memorable trip had gotten Magnus banished from Peru. He had always enjoyed those adventures more than any others. Being with his friends almost felt like having a home.
He did not know if there would ever be another trip. Ragnor was dead, and Magnus might have done something terrible.
“Why didn’t you stop me?” he asked. “You usually stop me!”
“I had to take an orphan child across an ocean to save his life.”
“Right,” said Magnus. “That’s a good reason.”
Catarina shook her head. “I took my eyes off you for one second.”
She had worked in mundane hospitals in New York for decades. She saved orphans. She healed the sick. She’d always been the voice of reason in the trio that was Ragnor, Catarina, and Magnus.
“So I planned with Ragnor to start a joke cult, and I guess I did it. Now the joke cult is a real cult, and they have a new leader. It sounds like they’re mixed up with a Greater Demon.”
Even to Catarina, he wouldn’t say the name of his father.
“Sounds like the joke has gotten a little out of hand,” Catarina said dryly.
“Sounds like I’m the punch line.”
― Cassandra Clare, The Red Scrolls of Magic

“The love stories sold us the wrong thing. The best kind of love doesn’t happen on moonlit walks and romantic vacations. It happens in between the folds of everyday life. It’s not grand gestures that show how you feel, it’s all the little secret things you do to make her life better that you never tell her about. Taking the end piece of the bread at breakfast so she can have the last middle piece for her sandwich when you pack her lunch. Making sure her car always has gas so she never has to stop at the pump. Telling her you’re not cold and to take your jacket when you are in fact, very, very cold. It’s watching TV on a rainy Sunday while you’re doing laundry and turning her light off when she’s fallen asleep reading. Sharing pizza crusts and laughing about something the kids did and taking care of each other when you’re sick. It isn’t glamorous, it isn’t all butterflies and stars in your eyes. It’s real. This is the kind of love that forever is made of. Because if it’s this good when life is draining and mundane and hard, think of how wonderful it will be when the love songs are playing and the moon is out.”
― Abby Jimenez, Just for the Summer

“His intercession was not only solidarity but identification with us: he bears all of us in his Body. And thus his whole life as a man and as Son is a cry to God’s heart; it is forgiveness, but forgiveness that transforms and renews. I think we should meditate upon this reality. Christ stands before God and is praying for me. His prayer on the Cross is contemporary with all human beings, contemporary with me. He prays for me; he suffered and suffers for me; he identified himself with me, taking our body and the human soul. And he asks us to enter this identity of his, making ourselves one body, one spirit with him because from the summit of the Cross he brought, not new laws, tablets of stone, but himself, his Body and his Blood, as the New Covenant.”
― Benedict XVI, A School of Prayer: The Saints Show Us How to Pray

“You're the only person I've ever loved like this, and I know you're the only person I ever will. And I'm not myself without you, Emma. Once you dissolve dye in water, you can't take it back out. It's like that. I can't take you out of me. It means cutting out my heart, and I don't like myself without my heart, I know that now.”
― Cassandra Clare, Queen of Air and Darkness