I don't think she doesn't believe she can die. I think, just like you always did, she believes there are things worth dying for.

Tessa put a hand against the wall as she made her way numbly down the stairs. What had she almost done? What had she nearly told Will?

Blue does not go with everything," Will told her. "It does not go with red, for instance." "I have a red and blue striped waistcoat," Henry interjected, reaching for the peas. "And if that isn't proof that those two colors should never be seen together under Heaven, I don't know what is.

The melody rolled over her, as cool and sweet as water, as hopeful and lovely as sunrise.

Lips. There was something strangely, delicately indelicate about the word, like a kiss itself.

Are you in fashion? You look like you're in fashion." "No," [Magnus] said. "I am fashion.

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.