She wanted to crawl inside his skin, live where he breathed.
He’ll have to get used to things being hard on him,′ said Diana, her expression flinty. ‘He’s a Shadowhunter now.
Ty leaned against one of the pillars. His hands fluttered at his sides like night butterflies.
Of course, due to Will’s prejudice toward all things Carstairs, he probably thought Alastair was perfect and also pretty.
You cannot destroy destruction itself any more than you can cure poison with poison.
Simon, as always, stuck out at the club like a sore thumb, in jeans and an old T-shirt that said MADE IN BROOKLYN across the front. His freshly scrubbed hair was dark brown instead of green or pink, and his glasses perched crookedly on the end of his nose. He looked less as if he were contemplating the powers of darkness and more as if he were on his way to chess club.
C’era qualcosa di confortante in quella antiquata mescolanza di legno e guarnizioni di ottone, con i libri rilegati in cuoio e velluto allineati lungo le pareti come vecchi amici in attesa del suo ritorno.
You would do anything to save him, whatever it cost you, whatever you might owe to Hell or Heaven, would you not?
People are more than one thing... It is one of the great lessons of growing up, learning that people can do both.
I love you as one loves certain dark things – Pablo Neruda, “Sonnet XVII.
Jace, lo sapeva, non aveva la stessa sensazione. Simon era stato a guardarlo con un senso di malessere allo stomaco, incapace di distogliere lo sguardo, quando aveva preso Clary tra le braccia e l’aveva baciata con un tale slancio che aveva temuto che uno dei due o entrambi potessero andare in frantumi. L’aveva stretta come se potesse annientarla in se stesso, come se potessero fondersi in un’unica persona.
I will not feed him to a tree, as is done in the Unseelie Court with unruly children,” Mark promised.
Much less capture my glorious handsomeness, which, I hardly need to point out, has only grown with age.
Si monumentum requiris, circumspice. Si buscas un monumento, mira alrededor.
Quando ami qualcuno, non hai scelta. L’amore ti nega ogni scelta.
That was what was gone from Julian, she thought, shivering again. The thousands of emotions that had always lived behind his expressions, the love-for her, for his siblings-behind his eyes. Even his worry seemed to have gone, and that was stranger than anything else.
She couldn’t help thinking of it as life after that, as if Julian were trying to bite into the bloody matter of his life, to cauterize the messiness somehow.
It couldn’t be yogurt, unless Jonathan Wayland had a very serious allergy to dairy.
You’re all dark, dark, dark. And Jace and I are light.
Emma hoped Ty was unconscious, she hoped he was seeing none of this. He would wake up eventually, and the horror of what he would wake up to drove her forward.