Chain of Gold (The Last Hours, #1)

by Cassandra Clare

“That’s my father’s port,” said James. It was strong stuff, he knew, and very sweet. “You’ll be vilely ill in the morning.” “Carpe decanter,” said Matthew.

“Drink, and you will sleep; sleep, and you will not sin; do not sin, and you will be saved; therefore, drink and be saved.”

“Ah, yes, who will be graced by my brother’s attentions?” drawled Lucie. “When he was six, he threw up in his own shoe.”

“Cordelia,” she said with what James hoped was mock surprise. “Really? Alone in a boy’s bedroom?” “Mâmân, he can barely sit up, and I am a trained warrior who wields a mythical sword.”

I have been told that being sought out by ghosts is not an appealing trait in a young woman.” Cordelia caught at Lucie’s hand with her own bandaged one. “Tell me who said that to you. I will kill them.”

“I told her all about culturing bacteria, and she was so fascinated that she never spoke a word!”

“The last time I saw you shocked was when that Iblis demon was sending Christopher love letters.” “I have a dark charm,” said Christopher sadly.

She thought longingly of the distant past when the two of them had been able to settle their differences by hitting each other over the head with toy teakettles.

“And we all know what Grandfather Benedict was up to in that house. It’s why he turned into a worm.” “Ah,” said Matthew, “fond family memories.”

If you saw humanity as I can see it, Uncle Jem said. There is very little brightness and warmth in the world for me. There are only four flames, in the whole world, that burn fiercely enough for me to feel something like the person I was. Your mother, your father, Lucie, and you. You love, and tremble, and burn. Do not let those who cannot see the truth tell you who you are. You are the flame that cannot be put out. You are the star that cannot be lost. You are who you have always been, and that is enough and more than enough. Anyone who looks at you and sees darkness is blind.

“That’s everyone’s dream, isn’t it, really? Instead of many who give you little pieces of themselves—one who gives you everything.” Anna laughed. “Searching for the one is what leads to all the misery in this world,” she said. “Searching for many is what leads to all the fun.”

“Hypatia wouldn’t like it if we all show up in a gaggle. A gaggle is not dignified.”

James smiled. It was the sort of smile that could lay waste to a good portion of England.

“I really do like tea!” James shouted from the bottom of the steps. “In fact, I love it! I LOVE TEA!” “Good for you, mate!” yelled the driver of a passing hansom cab.

“Last time I saw you, you were facedown in the Serpentine,” Magnus said cheerfully. “Now you’re fiddling with a Pyxis. I see you have decided to follow in the long Herondale tradition of poor decision-making.” “So have I!” said Lucie, determined not to be left out.

“Have you heard of the death of a thousand cuts?” Cordelia replied. “I always preferred the death of a thousand cats, in which one is buried under kittens,” said Matthew.

“I believe Christopher is hard at work on the antidote. I am assisting by providing witty observations and trenchant commentary.”

“Ghastly,” said Matthew. “Look at them, affirming their eternal bond of friendship. In public.”