千鶴 黒神

“You don't have to do this for me," Emma was saying, softly but earnestly, in a voice Cristina had never heard her use before.
I think I do," said Julian. "I think I remember making a vow to that effect."
"'Whither thou goest, I will go, whatever stupid thing you do, I will do also?'" Emma said. "Was that the vow?”
― Cassandra Clare, Lady Midnight

“Julian had heard stories-whispers really-of other Shadowhunter children who thought or felt differently. Who had trouble focusing. Who claimed letters rearranged themselves on the page when they tried to read them. Who fell prey to dark sadnesses that seemed to have no reason, or fits of energy they couldn't control.

Whispers were all there were, though, because the Clave hated to admit that Nephilim like that existed. They were disappeared into the 'dregs' portion of the Academy, trained to stay out of the way of other Shadowhunters. Sent to the far corners of the globe like shameful secrets to be hidden. There were no words to describe Shadowhunters whose minds were shaped differently, no real words to describe differences at all.

Because if there were words, Julian thought, there would have to be acknowledgement. And there were things the Clave refused to acknowledge.”
― Cassandra Clare, Lady Midnight

“Why all these paintings of you? Because I'm an artist, Emma. These pictures are my heart. And if my heart was a canvas, every square inch of it would be painted over with you.”
― Cassandra Clare, Lady Midnight

“Ty, no one could have expected that,' Emma said. 'I mean, Julian said some words, and boom, Hell's tractor beam.”
― Cassandra Clare, Lady Midnight