I have a plan." He groaned. "I was afraid of that." "My plans are terrible." "Isabelle's plans are terrible." He pointed a finger at her. " plans are suicidal. At best.
It’s me,” said Jace. “Watching me play Scrabble is enough to make most women swoon. Imagine if I actually put in some effort.
We’re meant to protect each other, but not from everything. Not from the truth. That’s what it means to love someone but let them be themselves. -Jace Wayland
There’s more to honesty than … than an arrangement of words. They say faeries can’t lie, but you lie in your intentions, your attitude, your demeanor —
Is your inner vampire different from your...outer vampire?' 'Definitely. He wants me to wear midriff-baring shirts and a fedora.' 'So your inner vampire is Magnus?
Does that mean you agree?" He groaned. "I think it means you crushed my spirit and beat me down." "Fantastic.
Too much of anything could destroy you, Simon thought. Too much darkness could kill, but too much light could blind.
He had once thought it was strange to have a friend you'd never met. Now it was even stranger, losing a friend you'd never really had
History will not let us forget: it wears disguises, reintroduces itself to us, claims it is someone new and wonderful. But let us not forget.
I wish I did not know parts of the past; I wish they had never happened. But the past is the past, and someone must remember, and speak of it.
Historians, I think, should be keepers of truth. We must tell things as they are - honestly, and without subversion. That is the greatest good one can do.
Ah,” said Magnus. “Nerd love. It is a beautiful thing, while also being an object of mockery and hilarity for those of us who are more sophisticated.
He is a Shadowhunter,” said Jocelyn. “His loyalty will be to Clave and Covenant.” “He’s my friend,” said Magnus coldly. “His loyalty is to me.
They value punishment because they think it means their actions are important - that they are important. You don't get punished for doing something unimportant, after all.
The only way that we can protect each other is if we are together. If we face things together. If we trust each other.
Contrary to popular belief, the experience of terror does not make you braver. Perhaps though, it is easier to hide your fear when you're afraid all the time.
One word is enough to destroy an entire city provided that word is backed by anger. Drop down the bullets of anger; it destroys at the speed of light!
And off in the far distance, the gold on the wings of the angel atop the bell tower of San Marco flashed in the sun, bathing the entire city in its glistening benediction.
A gamble. Everything was a damn gamble. Betting against luck and the Fates, again and again, and again. She kept walking, waiting for the bullet.
Tool wondered if the girl was going mad. It happened to people. Sometimes they saw too much and their minds went away. They lost the will to survive. They curled up and surrendered to madness.
(The psuedoscience of planning seems almost neurotic in its determination to imitate empiric failure and ignore empiric success.)
