Happy

“The witch grunted. "Love gone wrong. The worst."
Jace made a soft, almost inaudible noise at that—a chuckle. Dorothea's ears pricked like a cat's. "What's so funny, boy?"
"What would you know about it?" he said. "Love, I mean."
Dorothea folded her soft white hands in her lap. "More than you might think," she said.
"Didn't I read your tea leaves, Shadowhunter? Have you fallen in love with the wrong person yet?"
Jace said, "Unfortunately, Lady of the Haven, my one true love remains myself."
Dorothea roared at that. "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

“He understands now why kisses in movies are filmed the way they are, with the camera endlessly circling, circling: the ground is unsteady under his.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“He reassures her, but he feels her soft laughter travel through their joined hands — how did that happen? — as they make their way downstairs.
And he understands. He understands why people hold hands: he’d always thought it was about possessiveness, saying This is mine. But it’s about maintaining contact. It is about speaking without words. It is about I want you with me and don’t go.
He wants her in his bedroom. And not in that way — no girl has ever been in his bedroom that way. It is his private space, his sanctuary. But he wants Clary there. He wants her to see him, the reality of him, not the image he shows the world. He wants to lie down on the bed with her and have her curl into him. He wants to hold her as she breathes softly through the night; to see her as no one else sees her: vulnerable and asleep. To see her and to be seen.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“And so what? I just killed a demon in my own house, and you're going to be a dickhead about it because I'm not some spoiled-rotten rich brat like you and your sister?" Alec looked astonished. "What did you call me?”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones