It made him feel indispensable and needed – even if the fact that Jocelyn didn’t appear to care wheather he slept in her daughter’s bed or not did underscore that Clary’s mother apparently regarded him as about sexually threatening as a goldfish.
Grief makes you feel alone, but you’re not. I know you don’t believe in-in religion-the same way I do, but you can believe you’re surrounded by people who love you, can’t you?
He produced a handkerchief – crisply folded – and handed it to her. She took it with silent astonishment. She’d never before known anyone who carried a handkerchief.
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.
I suppose we all lie to ourselves sometimes.
Sometimes our lives can change so fast that the change outpaces our minds and hearts.
There is more to someone being lovable than the way they look.
Some people value sentiments over diamonds.
To be friends is a beautiful thing, Tessa, and I do not scorn it, but I have hoped for a long time now that we might be more than friends.
So much saintlike patience cannot be good for anyone.
Alec slid his hand from Jace’s arm to his shoulder. Magnus cleared his throat. Alec dropped his hand. Simon grinned into his undrunk coffee.
Who said we were owed happiness?
That’s why girls have boyfriends. So you have someone to take you to boring functions.
You can’t just keep grabbing at me every time you see me. It’s not a substitute for actually talking.
Gabriel’s green eyes sought Will. “It was demon pox, wasn’t it? You know all about it, don’t you? Aren’t you some sort of expert?” “Well, you needn’t act as if I invented it,” said Will.
What is one person’s pleasure is another’s poison...
There is no god, not a god who would create the things I saw.
Light like thin grey soup seeped through the windows. The door opened and Mrs. Dark came in, followed by her sister, who had no head, only the white bone of her spine protruding from her raggedly severed neck.
Go in peace, James Carstairs.
The measure of love is to love without measure. – attributed to Saint Augustine.