Where there is love, there is often also hate. They can exist side by side.

wanting what you could not have led to misery and madness

And now I’m looking at you,” he said, “and you’re asking me if I still want you, as if I could stop loving you. As if I would want to give up the thing that makes me stronger than anything else ever has. I never dared give much of myself to anyone before – bits of myself to the Lightwoods, to Isabelle and Alec, but it took years to do it – but, Clary, since the first time I saw you, I have belonged to you completely. I still do. If you want me.

[...] He tasted like snowflakes and wine, like winter and Will and London.

Unfortunatley, Lady of the Haven, my one true love remains my self.

Looking at her, he was in London again. He saw the gaslight and smelled the smoke and dirt and horses, the metallic tang of fog, the flowers in Kew Gardens. He saw a boy with black hair and blue eyes like Alec's. A girl with long brown curls and a serious face. In a world where everything went away from him eventually, she was one of the few remaining constants.

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.