A Mark that spoke of loss was still a Mark, a remembrance. You could not lose something you never had.

I know it's wrong - God, it's all kinds of wrong - but I just want to lie down with you and wake up with you, just once, just once ever in my life.

And in some way, Clary thought, he meant it, meant his gratitude. He had long ago lost the ability to distinguish between force and cooperation, between fear and willingness, between love and torture. And with that realization came a rush of numbness—what was the point of hating Valentine for being a monster when he didn’t even know he was one?

Sometimes he thought they were all forsaken, every soul on this earth.

Mortality, behold, and fear, What a change of flesh is here! Think how many royal bones Sleep within this heap of stones.

I played it for my bride, and one day you will play for yours.

To love is to destroy, to destroy is to love. -Jace Herondale