No real lady would let a dress that might have been worn by a stranger touch her skin.

I stabbed you. With a massive sword. You caught on fire." His lips twitched, almost imperceptibly. "Okay, so maybe our problems aren't like other couples.

If I held a revolver to your head, James, and pulled the trigger, would it really matter if I did not know that there were not bullets in the chambers?

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?

Growing up happens when you start having things you look back on and wish you could change -Clary Fray

Inanimate objects are harmless indeed, Mr. Mortmain. But one cannot always say the same of the men who use them.

Tessa had begun to tremble. This is what she had always wanted someone to say. What she had always, in the darkest corner of her heart, wanted Will to say. Will, the boy who loved the same books she did, the same poetry she did, who made her laugh even when she was furious. And here he was standing in front of her, telling her he loved the words of her heart, the shape of her soul. Telling her something she had never imagined anyone would ever tell her. Telling her something she would never be told again, not in this way. And not by him. And it did not matter. "It's too late", she said.