No, I’m just a very naughty boy. I do all sorts of bad things. I kick kittens. I make rude gestures at nuns.
Life is a book and there are a thousand pages I have not yet read.
As long as there was coffee in the world, how bad could things be?
Amor verus numquam moritur: True love never dies.
I think he’s handling it with grace. A lot of teenage boys would sulk, or lurk around under your window with a boom box.
Despite everything, I can’t bear the thought of this ring being lost forever, any more than I can bear the thought of leaving you forever. And though I have no choice about the one, at least I can choose about the other.
Jace suggested that the cast of “Gilligan’s Island” could go do something anatomically unlikely with themselves.
Why should I tell you everything about how I feel when you never tell me anything?
It’s like banging my head against the wall, except if I were actually banging my head on a wall, I’d be able to make myself stop.
Raphael snapped, “This isn’t funny.” “That’s why no one’s laughing.” Jace stood, hauling Raphael upright, jamming the tip of his knife between Raphael’s shoulder blades.
Do you really wish to disobey me, Marbas? Do you wish to anger my father?
Astriola. That IS demon pox. You had evidence that demon pox existed and you didnt mention it to me! Et tu, Brute!? He rolled up the paper and hit Jem over the head with it.
It’s always better to live the truth than to live a lie.
What he needs now is to love and have that love returned.
I feel myself diminished, parts of me spiralling away into the darkness, that which is good and honest and true – If you hold it away from yourself long enough, do you lose it entirely? If no one cares for you at all, do you even really exist?
She had never asked herself whether it cost him any effort. Any effort to stand between Will and the world, protecting each one of them from the other.
I tell myself he’s better than he makes himself out to be, but, Tessa, what if he isn’t?
But am I clever and right or clever and wrong?
God knows we’re all drawn to what’s beautiful and broken.
They all have always loved you, Will Herondale, for you cannot hide what is good about yourself, however hard you try.
Isabella with her whip and boots and knives would chop anyone who tried to pen her up in a tower into pieces, build a bridge out of the remains, and walk carelessly to freedom, her hair looking fabulous the entire time.