Chain of Gold (The Last Hours, #1)

by Cassandra Clare

“Good,” muttered Lilian Highsmith. “I’ve never trusted those newfangled inventions. I heard about a young man who went through a Portal with his parabatai and ended up with the other fellow’s leg attached to him.”

Never changes

“How long does seduction usually last?” “Depends if you do it properly,” said Matthew, with a little of his old grin. “Well, I hope for Hypatia’s sake that Anna does it properly, yet for our sake I hope she hurries it up,” said James.

Heh

“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.”

Magnus is not wrong here.

“Will your mother be angry?” Matthew said. “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.

Same, tbh

“Could I have a moment to speak with Jesse alone?” “Alone?” Jessamine looked horrified. “But he’s a gentleman. In your bedroom.” “I am a ghost,” said Jesse dryly. “What is it exactly you imagine I might do?” “Please, Jessamine,” said Lucie. Jessamine sniffed. “Never in my day!” she announced, and vanished in a swirl of petticoats.

Ahhh, Jess

“A little of both, I imagine.” His tone was light, but he put away the flask. “Did you know Dick Whittington’s cat might never have existed? Scandalous fiction, apparently.” “Does it matter if he had a cat or not?” “The truth always matters,” Matthew said. “Not when it comes to stories,” Cordelia said. “The point of stories is not that they are objectively true, but that the soul of the story is truer than reality. Those who mock fiction do so because they fear the truth.”

Aha!

“So,” Matthew said, folding his own arms behind his head. “With your new status as hero of the Clave, do you plan to make any demands?” He regarded the crack in the ceiling plaster. “I would ask for my own personal valet, and Oscar Wilde to be brought to me for conversation.” “Isn’t he dead?” said James. “Nothing wrong with the undead.” Matthew chuckled. “Wait until our next visit to the Hell Ruelle.”

Do not!