More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“A Herondale?” he said. “Just my luck.”
Two flights of creaking steps led to a wooden door on which a line had been carved years ago: It matters not how a man dies, but how he lives. S.J.
“I’m sure no one has ever commented on London’s buildings before.”
Alastair is such a diva
She supposed it was not the most romantic thing in the world to say that every time she saw James Herondale she felt as if she’d been attacked by a waterfowl, but it was true.
They had all heard the front doors open; Will had looked up when Jem came in, and Jem, in his Silent Brother robes, went over to Will and sat down beside him. He drew Will’s head against his shoulder, and Will held the front of Jem’s robes in his fists and he cried. Tessa bowed her head over both of them, and the three were united in adult grief, a sphere James could not yet touch. It was the first time it had ever occurred to James that his father might cry about anything.
Will Herondale was leaning against the edge of their table, arms folded, smiling.
The way Will never thought this life would ever be possible for himself
“Cordelia Carstairs,” he said, after greeting her mother. “How pretty you’ve become.” Cordelia beamed. If Will thought she was pretty, perhaps his son thought so too.
Girlllllll
They were no longer dancing. James turned away from Cordelia without a word and strode across the room toward the newcomers. She stood, frozen in confusion, as James bent to kiss the hand of the stunningly beautiful girl who had just walked into the room.
Oh James
“That’s right.” It was Matthew Fairchild. Fair hair, spicy cologne, a blur of a smile.
I love him!!!!!
“You can’t paint a line, Tess,” he said, and came over to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. Now that he was close up, she could see the silver in his dark hair. “Much less capture my glorious handsomeness, which, I hardly need to point out, has only grown with age.”
She seized him by the chin, turning his face to hers. “You are not old,” she said fiercely. “Even when you are eighty, you will be my beautiful Will.”
Cordelia had brought with her the Carstairs’ famous sword, Cortana, which James had long wanted to admire up close.
“You could tell me which of the young men of the Enclave are eligible,” she said. “If I had need of—of marrying, which of them are kind, and would not be terrible company.” He looked stunned. “You cannot get married—”
There it is omg
When Tatiana died, the house would pass back into the hands of the Clave, who might even return it to the Lightwoods. Tatiana would probably rather burn it down than have that happen.
His eyes began to burn, though they were closed. He felt breathless and sick, as if he’d dived under salt water and come up for air too late. Something was wrong. With a choked gasp of nausea, he broke away from Grace. Her hand went to her mouth. There was a look on her face he had not expected—a look of undeniable panic. “Grace—” he began,
It was true, Cordelia thought. She had read the story of Layla and Majnun a thousand times, and each time the beginning was a thrill, even though she knew—and dreaded—the end.
Me reading clockwork princess
“Nonsense,” said Matthew, hopping up on a nearby occasional table. It was quite frail-looking, with thin gold-painted wooden legs, and James eyed it worriedly. “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.
The thought made him shiver, but when he returned home, the feeling faded; at night he still fell asleep to his memory of Cordelia’s voice, low and steady in his ear.
Cruel Prince
Hi Cardan <3
would tell her she was too young to get married,” James said stiffly. The truth was that when he thought of Cordelia marrying someone else, it felt like being kicked in the heart. With a start, he realized that in his vague imaginings of the future Cordelia had always been there, a steady, welcome presence, a warm light in the dark of the unknown.
James felt a surge of warmth toward Grace. He had feared she might be horrified by his presence as a shadow, but not only did she accept him, she presented an opportunity for his power to be used to help. He felt for some reason that he owed her, though he could not have said why. “I could. I will.”
He wasn’t wearing gear. He was in trousers and shirtsleeves, and his face was pale with shock.
She pulled him out of the shadow realm!!!
An odd look of utter shock passed across James’s face, as if he had just remembered something terribly important. “Grace,” he said.
I hate this
“Let me apologize to her,” James said; the silver bracelet felt as if it were burning on his wrist.
“If you truly love me,” she said, her gray eyes flaring, “then you will marry me. Now.
Girl bye
James sat on the edge of a stone bastion atop Blackfriars Bridge, his legs dangling over the edge.
James knew his body was bent in a somewhat awkward way, his hand gripping Matthew’s shirtfront and his face jammed into his shoulder, but there was something about the comfort of your parabatai—no one else could give it to you, not mother or sister or father or lover. It was a transcendence of all that.
God I love them so much
“Are you sure?” said Matthew. “The last time you were feeling heartbroken, you took shots at a chandelier with a mundane gun
“Tell me, Matthew,” he said. “Tell me the name of the shadow that is always hanging over you. I can become a shadow. I could fight it for you.”
Leighton was famous for painting children in their innocence, and when Matthew slept, he looked as if sorrow had never touched him.
“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.
“I thought I would feel incredible grief,” he said at last. “Instead I am not sure what I feel. Everything is sharper and clearer, colors and textures are different. Perhaps that is grief. Perhaps it is just that I don’t know how such loss should feel.”
:( oh james
15 THE WHISPERING ROOM
Yes bitch omggggg
She stroked the side of his neck with her fingers; there was a faint white scar just above his collar, in the shape of a star.…
“Daisy… my Daisy…”
“Have you heard of the death of a thousand cuts?” Cordelia replied.
...... Yes
Cordelia smiled weakly. “Well, I’m sure you’ll add that to the list of my many qualities when you are helping me find a husband.”
Got em
“False?” he echoed. Despite the heat, Cordelia shivered as James rose to his feet. The firelight flickered through his hair, edging the black locks with scarlet, as if he wore a crown of flames. “I kissed you because I wanted to,” he said. “Because I’d never wanted anything so much.”
Yesssss
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered. “Because I never wanted you to know!” Alastair burst out. “Because I wanted you to have a childhood, a thing I never had. I wanted you to be able to love and respect your father as I never could.
Oh he is such a good big brother and she doesn’t even know
Lucie raised her eyebrows. “I thought at first you might have been in the water. Drowning. The life force in the locket could have emptied your lungs and let you breathe.” He hesitated. “I thought, if you were dying, I would use it to bring you back.”
The Khora started back toward the boy and the dog. Matthew threw his arms around Oscar—the puppy James had saved and given to him so long ago—curving his body to protect his dog. James spun, a knife in each hand, and let them fly.
He lifted the oaken staff in his hands, and Cordelia saw the letters WH carved into the grip.
You're joking
“I can’t,” he said. The wind from the desert had risen, blowing his black-silk hair across his forehead. “I must destroy it. It is the only way to end this.” He touched her face. “Go back, my Daisy. Tell Matthew—”
Once Charles had only been Matthew’s annoying older brother, rarely thought about. Now Thomas saw the way Alastair looked at Charles, and felt a dull pain.
“If he were dying, I would see it,” Jesse said quietly. “And he would see me.”
Matthew gasped. His hand flew to his chest: he pressed there, hard, as if a knife had gone into his heart and he was trying to stop the bleeding. His face was utterly white. “He’s dying,” he said, his voice cracking. “I can feel it.”
“Please, Jamie,” she whispered. “Please don’t die. Please take another breath. For Mam and Papa. For me.” “Give him mine,” said Jesse.
Then her brother’s chest lifted with Jesse Blackthorn’s last breath.
James lay on the bed in his room, atop the covers, his arm flung behind his head. He was gazing at a familiar crack in the ceiling that was shaped a bit like a duck. His father would be horrified.
“You cannot.” Matthew shook his head, scattering ash. “I am completely out of patience. The bank of patience is exhausted! I am not even being extended any patience on credit! You and I and Cordelia are going home, and once home, I will berate you at enormous length. Prepare yourself.”
