Izzy Gora

“Good. Because I don't need protecting."

"I knew you'd say that.But the thing is, sometimes you do. And sometimes I do. We're meant to protect each other, but not from everything. Not from the truth. That's what it means to love someone but let them be themselves.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

“She opened her mouth to answer, but he was already kissing her. She had kissed him so many times—soft gentle kisses, hard and desperate ones, brief brushes of the lips that said good-bye, and kisses that seemed to go on for hours—and this was no different. The way the memory of someone who had once lived in a house might linger even after they were gone, like a sort of psychic
imprint,
her
body remembered
Jace.
Remembered the way he tasted, the slant of his mouth over hers, his scars under her fingers, the shape of his body under her hands.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

“Despite the heat in her face, it felt as if cold needles of ice were running up and down her veins. "What are you doing here?"
He drew back slightly, looking disappointed. "That isn't really an answer to my question, you know. I was expecting more of a "Hallelujah Chorus.' I mean, it's not every day your boyfriend comes back from the dead."
"I already knew you weren't dead." She spoke through numb lips. "I saw you in the library. With--"
"Colonel Mustard?"
"Sebastian.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

“Jace broke off the kiss and stepped back with an exhale; before Clary could say anything, a chorus of sarcastic applause broke out from the nearby hill. Simon, Isabelle, and Alec waved at them. Jace bowed while Clary stepped back slightly sheepishly, hooking her thumbs into the belt of her jeans
Jace sighed. "Shall we join our annoying, voyeuristic friends?"
"Unfortunately, that's the only kind of friends we have.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire