Will stared down at his hands. "My whole life wrecked, destroyed..." "You're seventeen," Magnus said. "You can't have wrecked a life you've barely lived.
She had never imagined she had the power to make someone else so happy. And not a magical power, either--a purely human one.
D'you think he would have thought ahead like that?" said Henry. "Assuredly," said Will. "The man's a strategist." He tapped his temple. "Like me.
And therefor," said Magnus "We must go." Will blinked at him. "Go where?" "Don't worry about that right now, my love." Will blinked again. "Pardon?
Will has always been the brighter burning star, the one to catch attention — but Jem is a steady flame, unwavering and honest. He could make you happy.
Love potions? For Will Herondale? T’aint my way to turn down payment, but any man who looks like you has got no need of love potions, and that’s a fact.
When he saw her, he wanted to be with her; when he was with her, he ached to touch her; when he touched even her hand, he wanted to embrace her.
Whither thou goest, I will go; Where thou diest, will I die And there will I be buried: The Angel do so to me, and more also, If aught but death part thee and me.
Cassie - She loved reading romances - contemporary stuff. She wasn't into fantasy. No fairytale princess and prince stories. No vampires. No werewolves. No immortal fae.
Live on berries in a hollowed-out comet lit by artificial suns long enough, and you start to have delusions about achieving enlightenment.
He smiled weakly. “You are the only woman I have ever met who made me think so much.” She laughed. “That doesn’t say much for you.
She wondered what it sounded like when your heart broke. Glass shattering? The thundering roar of falling mountains? Or maybe the squishy rip of a real heart?
(The golden goose has died, my prince turned into a frog, the Kingdom is lost, everyone has turned into stone and I am locked in the tower)
Charles was very intent to use his years as Prince of Wales to make his mark while he still had freedom of maneuver that he wouldn't have as King. The first subject he really went for was architecture. It made an impact.
I wondered if I could just drop the role I carried like a mantle of a dethroned prince.
Well done, Darren!” Master Byron was full of praise for the prince. “What did you use to cast it?” Darren’s eyes found mine. “Something I don’t regret.
This is laid down with a groove funkier and blacker than anything Prince of Michael Jackson--or any other black artist of the recent years for that matter--has come up with.
Dumbledore raised his finger for silence, a silence which fell as though he had struck Uncle Vernon dumb.
Somewhere out in the darkness, a phoenix was singing in a way Harry had never heard before: a stricken lament of terrible beauty.
It was surely one thing to respect the Dark Arts as a dangerous enemy, another to speak of them with a loving caress in his voice?
It was important, Dumbledore said, to fight, and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then could evil be kept at bay, though never quite eradicated. . . .
