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Cassandra Clare
“Clary," he whispered. There was a thump, and she realized he had fallen to his kees by the side of her bed. She didn't move, but her body tightened. His voice was a whisper. "Clary, it's me. It's me.”
Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

Cassandra Clare
“Rage flared up in Tessa and she considered belting Woolsey with the poker whether he came near her or not. He had moved awfully quickly while fighting Will, though, and she didn’t fancy her chances.

“You don’t know James Carstairs. Don’t speak about him.”
“Love him, do you?” Woolsey managed to make it sound unpleasant. “But you love Will, too.”

Tessa froze. She had known that Magnus knew of Will’s affection for her, but the idea that what she felt for him in return was written across her face was too terrifying to contemplate.”
Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

Lauren Oliver
“Take down the walls.”
Lauren Oliver, Requiem

Cassandra Clare
“Will looked at his sister. “And you don’t care about being a Shadowhunter. How is this: I shall write a letter and give it to you if you promise to deliver it home yourself — and not to return.”

Cecily recoiled; she had many memories of shouting matches with Will, of the china dolls she had owned that he had broken by dropping them out an attic window; but there was also kindness in her memories: the brother who had bandaged up a cut knee, or retied her hair ribbons when they came loose. That kindness was absent from the Will who stood before her now. Her mother had used to cry for the first year or two after Will went; she had said, in Welsh, holding Cecily to her, that they — the Shadowhunters — would “take all the love out of him.” A cold, unloving people, she had told Cecily, who had forbidden her marriage to her husband. What could he want with them, her Will, her little one?

“I will not go,” Cecily said, staring her brother down. “And if you insist that I must, I will — I will —”

The door of the attic slid open and Jem stood silhouetted in the doorway…”
Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

Lauren Oliver
“Mama, Mama, put me to bed
I won’t make it home, I’m already half-dead
I met an Invalid, and fell for his art
He showed me his smile, and went straight for my heart.”
Lauren Oliver, Requiem

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