In Will’s experience, when someone who ought to be afraid wasn’t, the reason was rarely bravery. Usually it meant that they knew something you didn’t.
You could have anything else in the world, and you asked for me.
After all, it was never Darnay he quoted, only Sydney, drunk and wrecked and dissipated. Sydney, who died for love.
Just like an alley in New York -like every alley in the world, apparently- it smelled like cat pee.
Love takes your choices away.
If you lay one hand on Simon, vampire, I’ll have you chopped up into tiny pieces and fed to my cat. Understand?
I have important business to get to. I plan to sulk all afternoon, followed, perhaps, by an evening of Byronic brooding and a nighttime of dissipation.
I can offer you my life, but it is a short life; I can offer you my heart, though I have no idea how many more beats it shall sustain.
To my son, If you are reading this letter, then I am dead.
I was thinking about the first time I ever saw you and how after that I couldn’t forget you. I wanted to, but I couldn’t stop myself.
No. It is said that the Nephilim are the children of men and angels. All that this angelic heritage has given to us is a longer distance to fall.
Love and lies can corrupt even the purest heart.
You always find the right quote, or the right thing to say to make me believe you love me.
Memories did one no good, not when one knew the truth in the present. Will was beautiful, but he was not hers; he was anybody’s. Something in him was broken, and trough that break spilled a blind cruelty, a need to hurt and to push away.
Some are just born bad, and that’s all there is to it.
Was this what it meant to love someone? That any burden was a burden shared, that they could give you comfort with a word or a touch?
What you’re blaming yourself for is being who you are. And that’s no one’s fault and nothing you can change.
I played it for my bride, and one day you will play for yours.
But I will never have a bride.
For that was love, wasnt it – to burn bright in someone else’s eyes?