Arabella

“But Julian's blood was different. When she saw it she thought of him, shot and crumpling, the way his blood had run like water through her fingers. It was the first time in years that she'd actually thought he might die, that she might lose him. She knew what people said about parabatai, knew that it was meant to be a loss as profound as that of a spouse or a sibling. Emma had lost her parents; she had thought she knew what loss was, was prepared for it. But nothing had prepared her for the feeling that the idea of losing Jules wrenched out of her: that sky would go dark forever, that there would never be solid ground again.”
― Cassandra Clare, Lady Midnight

“You don't have to do this for me," Emma was saying, softly but earnestly, in a voice Cristina had never heard her use before.
I think I do," said Julian. "I think I remember making a vow to that effect."
"'Whither thou goest, I will go, whatever stupid thing you do, I will do also?'" Emma said. "Was that the vow?”
― Cassandra Clare, Lady Midnight

“I love everything about you, Emma. I love the way I can recognize your footsteps in the hallway outside my room even when I didn't know you were coming. No one else walks or breathes or moves like you do. I love the way you gasp when you're asleep like your dreams have surprised you. I love the way when we stay together on the beach our shadows blend into one person. I love the way you can write on my skin with your fingers and I can understand it better than I could understand someone else shouting in my ear. I didn't want to love you like this. It's the worst idea in the world that I love you like this. But I can't stop. Believe me, I tried.”
― Cassandra Clare, Lady Midnight

“Magnus rolled onto his back and put his feet up on the arm of the sofa. “What do you care if Alec’s miserable?”

“What do I care?” Jace said, so loudly that Chairman Meow rolled off the couch and landed on the floor. “Of course I care about Alec; he’s my best friend, my parabatai. And he’s unhappy. And so are you, by the look of things. Takeout containers everywhere, you haven’t done anything to fix up the place, your cat looks dead —“

“He’s not dead.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire