Jem always said that Will rushed toward the end of a mission rather than proceeding in a measured manner, and that one must look at the next step on the path ahead, rather than the destination in the distance, or one would never reach one’s goal. Will closed his eyes for a moment. He knew that Jem was right, but it was hard to remember, when the goal that he sought was the girl that he loved.
I need to know you believe me when I say I love you. That is all.""I believe everything you say," Tessa said with a smile, her hands creeping doen from his waist to his weapons belt. Her fingers closed on the hilt of the dagger, and she yanked it from the belt, smiling as he looked down at her in surprise. "After all," she said, "you weren't lying about the tattoo of the dragon of Wales, were you?
I get no sense from his note at all,” said Will, bounding to his feet, “except that he can quote Tennyson’s lesser poetry. Sophie, how quickly canyou have Tessa ready?”“Half an hour,” said Sophie, not looking up from the dress.“Meet me in the courtyard in half an hour, then,” said Will. “I’ll wake Cyril. And be prepared to swoon at my finery.
Pulvis et umbra sumus. It's a line from Horace. 'We are dust and shadows'. Appropriate, don't you think?" Will said. "It's not a long life, killing demons; one tends to die young, and then they burn your body - dust to dust, in the literal sense. And then we vanish into the shadows of history, nary a mark on the page of a mundane book to remind the world that once we existed at all.
He seemed to realize she was staring at him, because the cursing stopped. "You cut me," he said. His voice was pleasant. British. Very ordinary. He looked at his hand with critcal interest. "It might be fatal." Tessa looked at him with wide eyes. "Are you the Magister?" He tilted his hand to the side. Blood ran down it, spattering the floor. "Dear me, massive blood loss. Death could be imminent.
Will began to straighten up, to turn away from the bed. And as he did, he felt something wrap tightly around his wrist. He glanced down and saw Jem’s hand braceleting his own. For a moment he was too shocked to do anything but stare.“I am not dead yet, Will,” Jem said in a soft voice, thin but as strong as wire. “What did Magnus mean by asking you if I knew you were in love with Tessa?
I'm trying to figure out how someone could live in a brothel for a month and not notice. You must be terribly dull-witted." Tessa glared."If it helps at all, it seemed to be quite a high-class establishment. Nicely furnished, fairly clean...""Sounds as if you've visited your fair share of brothels," Tessa said, sourly. "Making a study of them?""More of a hobby," said Will, and smiled like a bad angel.
Will closed his eyes. He could not hear Jem go, not anymore; he did not want to know the moment when he left and Will was alone, did now want to know when his first day as a Shawdowhunter without a parabatai truly began. And if the place over his heart, where his parabatai rune had been, flared up with a sudden burning pain as the door closed behind Jem, Will told himself it was only a stray ember from the fire.
If love is great, then it is worth fighting for.”“What if it is immoral somehow? Forbidden?”“Forbidden? But my father’s love for my mother was forbidden, or at least against the law. Or do mean if she is married, or a vampire?”“Or a married vampire.”“Well, nevertheless,” Will said, with a grin. “One should fight on. Love conquers all.”Will and Jem
...In Paris she found Magnus, who was living in a garret apartment and paiting, an occupation for which he had no aptitude whatsoever. He let her sleep on a mattress by the window, and in the night, when she woke up screaming for Will, he came and put his arms around her, smelling of turpentine."The first one is always the hardest," he said."The first?""The first one you love who dies," he said. "It gets easier, after.
Oh, do you have A Tale of Two Cities?""That silly thing? Men going around getting their heads chopped off for love? Ridiculus." Will unpeeled himself from the door and made his way toward Tessa where she stood by the bookshelves. He gestured expansively at the vast number of volumes all around him. "No, here you'll find all sorts of advice about how to chop off someone else's head if you need to; much more useful.
By the Angel, Bridget’s depressing,” said Henry, setting down his newspaper directly on his plate and causing the edge to soak through with egg yolk. Charlotte opened her mouth as if to object, and closed it again. “It’s all heartbreak, death and unrequited love.”“Well, that is what most songs are about,” said Will. “Requited love is nice, but it doesn’t make much of a ballad.
Spoon!” James said, running at his uncle Gabriel and jabbing him in the thigh. Gabriel mussed the boy’s hair affectionately.“You’re such a good boy,” he said. “I often wonder how you could possibly be Will’s.”“Spoon,” James said, leaning against his uncle’s leg lovingly.“No, Jamie,” Will urged. “Your honorable father has been impugned. Attack, attack!
Eres como yo. Dices las cosas que pienso pero nunca digo en voz alta. Lees los libros que leo. Amas la poesía que yo amo. Me haces reír con tus canciones ridículas y la forma en que lo ves todo. Siento como si pudieras mirar dentro de mí y ver todos los lugares en los que soy extraña o inusual y adaptas tu corazón alrededor de ellos porque eres extraño e inusual de la misma forma. Somos lo mismo.
You don’t sound very patriotic,” observed Tessa. “Weren’t you just reminiscing about the mountains?”“Patriotic?” Will looked smug. “I’ll tell you what’s patriotic,” he said. “In honor of my birthplace, I’ve the dragon of Wales tattooed on my—”“You’re in a charming temper, aren’t you, William?” interrupted Jem,though there was no edge to his voice.
