Chain of Iron (The Last Hours, #2)

by Cassandra Clare

“My father used to tell me that sometimes you cannot reconcile with someone else. Sometimes you have to find that reconciliation on your own. Someone who broke your heart is often not the person who can mend it.”

There was an intonation to Malcolm’s voice when he said “her” that Lucie knew: it was the way her own father spoke of her mother. As if there could be no other “her.”

Tell me, he had always wanted to say, what broke your heart, and let such bitterness spill out?

a boy so beautiful he illuminated the darkness.

“I thought of you,” he said again, “and it was as if you were there, with me. I saw your face. Your hair …” He wound a finger through a dangling curl beside her face. She could feel the warmth from his hand against her cheek. “And I was no longer afraid. I knew I would be able to come home, because of you. That you would lead me back. You are my constant star, Daisy.”

Now that I can see you clearly, I see you are unhappy, but why, when you are more loved and loving than anyone else I know?

“You,” he said. “Did you know, you grow more beautiful every day?” “Well, that’s odd,” said Tessa, resting her chin thoughtfully on the spine of her book, “because as a warlock I do not age, and so I should look the same day to day, neither improving nor worsening.” “And yet,” said Will, “you continue to accrue radiance.”

“You cannot save people who do not want to be saved,” said Magnus. “You can only stand by their side and hope that when they wake and realize they need saving, you will be there to help them.”