Pulvis et umbra sumsu." ~ Horace, Odes ("We are dust and Shadows")

It was like I saw your soul in the notes of the music. And it was beautiful." She leaned forward and touched his face lightly, the smooth skin over his hard cheekbone, his hair like feathers against the back of her hand. "I saw rivers, boats like flowers, all the colors of the night sky.

I’m not unsympathetic. But do you like me? Because this being gay business doesn’t mean you can just throw yourself at any guy and it’ll be fine because he’s not a girl. There are still people you like and people you don’t.

One does no question miracles, or complain that they are no constructed perfectly to one's liking.

You may have the worst timing since Napoleon decided the dead of winter was the right moment to invade Russia.

Hello?" Isabelle called from the other side. "Simon, is your diva moment over? I need to talk to Jace.

Simon to die. Jace to live. Jonathon to retune. And you Valentine's daughter, to be the catalist of it all.