Of course I can see you. I'm not blind, you know. Oh, but you are. You just don't know it.
And next time you're planning to injure yourself to get me attention, just remember that a little sweet talk works wonders.
It's not gray," Clary felt compelled to point out. "It's green." "If there was such a thing as terminal literalism, you'd have died in childhood," said Jace.
What?" Jace was still staring at her as if she'd told him she'd found one of the Silent Brothers doing nude cartwheels in the hallway.
The boy never cried again, and he never forgot what he'd learned: that to love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed.
Shouldn't we stand back to back or something?" "What? Why?" "I don't know. In movies that's what they do in this kind of… situation.
Maybe they didn't make vampires out of ugly people. Or maybe ugly people just didn't want to live forever.
Había sido demasiado amor, tanto como el que yo podía dar, más del que me convenía. Fue demasiado amor. Y luego, nada.
This time I really am going to light the world on fire,' she said, laughing. 'I finally have a fucking match.
She knew this pain would fade again; like a sunburn, it would heal itself and leave her slightly more protected from the glare.
but that shadow self of hers wasn't so sure. The ugly, toxic thought was smaller than a drop of blood, yet it poisoned the entire stream.
It was only when the salt water of my tears ran into my cuts and made them sting that I discovered I was crying.
Quão lamentável é arriscar tudo em um único combate, negligenciando a estratégia vitoriosa, e fazer com que o destino de tuas armas dependa de uma única batalha!
She had died at age twelve, and by now she was nothing but the memory of love-- nothing, now, but bones.
Norah watched him, serious and utterly absorbed in his task, overcome by the simple fact of his existence.
After all these years, I feel so free. Who knows where I might fly?
Quid nomen tibi est? She was not about to offer her name up to a stranger. It was almost the only thing she possessed that nobody had stolen.
How can you not care?" "Practice," Magnus said, looking back to his book and turning the page.
I like your anger,' the Hag said mildly. 'I like your resistance. It makes you less than courteous, but altogether more interesting.
Through meditation we come to know that we are dying & being reborn in every moment.
We can discover the capacity of the mind to be aware, to love, to begin again
