As you talk to Heavenly Father and pour out your heart to Him, you will draw closer to Him. Then pause, stop, and listen to the feelings of your heart. Seek to understand the promptings of the Spirit. As you pray sincerely, you will come to feel Heav...
Isabelle!" he called again. "Let down your raven hair!' "Oh my God," Clary muttered. "There was something in that blood Raphael gave you, wasn't there? I'm going to kill him.
It was a little sexy, Simon said. He felt much better, having fed, and couldn't help but poke at Alec a bit. It wasn't, said Alec. I had some feelings, said Simon.
I was going to put what birthday it was on the sign," he said, "but Jace said that after twenty, you're just old, so it doesn't matter anyway." Jace stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. "I said that?
Heroes aren't always the ones who win," she said. "They're the ones who lose, sometimes. But they keep fighting, they keep coming back. They don't give up. That's what makes them heroes.
Clary’s eyes widened. She wondered if she was about to be broken up with. If so, she would have a thing or two to say to Jace about his timing, after she drowned him in the lake.
Jace: Herondale, on the other hand, is melodic. Dulcet, one might say. Think of the sound of 'Clary Herondale.' Clary: Oh, my god, that sounds horrible. Jace: We all must sacrifice for love.
Heroes aren't always the ones who win. They're the ones who lose, sometimes. But they keep fighting, they keep coming back. They don't give up. That's what makes them heroes
Don't you think 'Mark is kind of a weird name for a Shadowhunter?" Julian was saying as Emma approached. "I mean, if you really think about it. It's confusing. 'Put a Mark on me, Mark.
Magnus raised his head and looked up and over at Alec; it was a look that made Clary flush and glance away. There was so much love in it, mixed with exasperation and pride and despair. It was an unguarded look, and it felt wrong to see it.
Logic is something the mind has created to conceal its timidity, a hocus-pocus designed to give formal validity to conclusions we are willing to accept if everybody else in our set will too.
Attain complete emptiness, Hold fast to stillness. Understanding the ordinary: Mind opens. Mind opening leads to compassion, Compassion to nobility, Nobility to heavenliness, Heavenliness to TAO. TAO endures. Your body dies. There is no danger.
Heavenly Father has given us a priceless gift in our capacity to communicate with each other. Our communications are at the core of our relationships with others. If we are to return home safely to Heavenly Father, we must develop righteous relations...
The figure in the doorway ducked; the brick hit the wall, and Luke straightened up and looked at her curiously. I hope when we're married, that's not the way you greet me every day when I come home, he said.
We Shadowhunters, we put ourselves in danger, every hour, every day. I think sometimes we are reckless with our hearts the way we are with our lives. When we give them away, we give every piece.
Clary saw him take Mark's hand; he pressed his witchlight into the boy's palm, where it flickered, and then resumed its steady glow. 'Take this with you,' said Jace, 'for it can be dark in the land under the hill, and the years very long.
I knew a girl, once, immortal like me-" "And she was with someone mortal?" said Alec. "What happened?" "He died," Magnus said. There was a finality to the way he said it that spoke of a deeper grief than words could paint.
Magnus glared at him out of gold-green eyes. “If I wanted to lie on a couch and complain to someone about my parents, I’d hire a psychiatrist.” “Ah,” said Jace. “But my services are free.” “I heard that about you.
Demons don't understand human hearts, not well. They see through a distorted glass and show you what you desire, but warped and wrong. Use that wrongness to push yourself out of the dream. Life is loss, Alexander, but it's better than this.
Magnus held up a warning finger. "Don't overstep yourself, biscuit," he said, and moved past them, disappearing into the crowd around the portal. "Biscuit?" said Simon. "Believe it or not, he's called me that before," Clary said.
All historical writing, even the most honest, is unconsciously subjective, since every age is bound, in spite of itself, to make the dead perform whatever tricks it finds necessary for its own peace of mind.
