Trinity

“She leaned forward and caught at his hand, pressing it between her own. The touch was like white fire through his veins. He could not feel her skin only the cloth of her gloves, and yet it did not matter. You kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire. He had wondered once why love was always phrased in terms of burning. The conflagration in his own veins, now, gave the answer.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“Her throat ached: adoration, heartbreak, in equal measure. “Kiss me,” she said. “Please.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“Wo wei ni xie de,” he said, as he raised the violin to his left shoulder, tucking it under his chin. He had told her many violinists used a shoulder rest, but he did not: there was a slight mark on the side of his throat, like a permanent bruise, where the violin rested.

“You — made something for me?” Tessa asked.

“I wrote something for you,” he corrected, with a smile, and began to play.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“When my father would yell at me, I told myself someday I'd use it in a book.”
― Paula Danziger