Lord of Shadows (The Dark Artifices, #2)

by Cassandra Clare

“When a decision like that is made by a government, it emboldens those who are already prejudiced to speak their deepest thoughts of hate. They assume they are simply brave enough to say what everyone really thinks.”

‘Respice post te. Hominem te esse memento. Memento mori.’”

He had grown up near the sea, in Cornwall, and he recalled its monsters. And bitter as blood is the spray; and the crests are as fangs that devour.

“Did you see how Fade never raised a hand to defend himself?” she said. “That is love, son of thorns. We welcome its cruelest blows and when we bleed from them, we whisper our thanks.”

The weapons were carefully locked away, he didn’t know how to sell candlesticks on the street, and though there were valuable first editions of books in the enormous library, most of them had been scribbled in by some idiot named Will H.