Wo wei ni xie de,” he said, as he raised the violin to his left shoulder, tucking it under his chin. He had told her many violinists used a shoulder rest, but he did not: there was a slight mark on the side of his throat, like a permanent bruise, where the violin rested. “You — made something for me?” Tessa asked. “I wrote something for you,” he corrected, with a smile, and began to play.
Cassandra ClareGood. Because I don't need protecting." "I knew you'd say that.But the thing is, sometimes you do. And sometimes I do. We're meant to protect each other, but not from everything. Not from the truth. That's what it means to love someone but let them be themselves.
Cassandra ClareYou can see where it was, years ago. Like an old woman who was once beautiful, but time has taken her beauty away.
Cassandra Clare