City of Glass

A true vampire knows he is dead. He accepts his death. But you, you think you are still one of the living. It is that which makes you so dangerous.

all souls mattered to the fabric of the world.

I loved you, so I drew these tides of men into my hands
and wrote my will across the sky in stars.
—T. E. Lawrence

“And quit baring your fangs at me. It’s making me nervous.”
“Good,” Simon said. “If you want to know why, it’s because you smell like blood.”
“It’s my cologne. Eau de Recent Injury.” Jace raised his left hand. It was a glove of white bandages, stained across the knuckles where blood had seeped through.

since the first time I saw you, I have belonged to you completely. I still do. If you want me.”

And now I’m looking at you,” he said, “and you’re asking me if I still want you, as if I could stop loving you. As if I would want to give up the thing that makes me stronger than anything else ever has. I never dared give much of myself to anyone before—bits of myself to the Lightwoods, to Isabelle and Alec, but it took years to do it—but, Clary,

I always thought love made you stupid. Made you weak. A bad Shadowhunter. To love is to destroy. I believed that.”

People aren’t born good or bad. Maybe they’re born with tendencies either way, but it’s the way you live your life that matters

"I love you, and I wil love you until I die, and if there's a life after that, I'l love you then."

“There is no pretending,” Jace said with absolute clarity. “I love you, and I will love you until I die, and if there’s a life after that, I’ll love you then.”