Clockwork Angel (The Infernal Devices, #1)

by Cassandra Clare

“One must always be careful of books,” said Tessa, “and what is inside them, for words have the power to change us.”

“There’s plenty of sense in nonsense sometimes, if you wish to look for it.”

She had never thought about her name much before, but when he said it, it was as if she were hearing it for the first time.

He didn’t know what books meant to her, that books were symbols of truth and meaning, that this one acknowledged that she existed and that there were others like her in the world.

“Inanimate objects are harmless indeed, Mr. Mortmain. But one cannot always say the same of the men who use them.”

“Whatever you are physically,” he said, “male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy—all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. Whatever the color, the shape, the design of the shade that conceals it, the flame inside the lamp remains the same. You are that flame.”

“Do reasons matter when there’s nothing that can be done to change things?”

Anger, Tessa thought, was satisfying in its own way, when you gave in to it. There was something peculiarly gratifying about shouting in a blind rage until your words ran out. Of course, the aftermath was less pleasant.

It is as great a thing to love as it is to be loved. Love is not something that can be wasted.”