l

“Mama, Mama, put me to bed
I won’t make it home, I’m already half-dead
I met an Invalid, and fell for his art
He showed me his smile, and went straight for my heart.”
― Lauren Oliver, Requiem

“And you can't love, not fully, unless you are loved in return.”
― Lauren Oliver, Requiem

“Tessa reached to brush the damp hair from his forehead. He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing. “Jem—have you ever—” She hesitated. “Have you ever thought of ways to prolong your life that are not a cure for the drug?”
 
At that his eyelids flew open. “What do you mean?”
 
She thought of Will, on the floor of the attic, choking on holy water. “Becoming a vampire. You would live forever—”
 
He scrambled upright against the pillows of the bed. “Tessa, no. Don’t—you can’t think that way.”
 
 “Is the thought of becoming a Downworlder truly so horrible to you?”
 
“Tessa …” He exhaled slowly. “I am a Shadowhunter. Nephilim. Like my parents before me. It is the heritage I claim, just as I claim my mother’s heritage as part of myself. It does not mean I hate my father. But I honor the gift they gave me, the blood of the Angel, the trust placed in me, the vows I have taken. Nor, I think, would I make a very good vampire. [redacted for spoilers] I would no longer be Will’s parabatai, no longer be welcome in the Institute. No, Tessa. I would rather die and be reborn and see the sun again, than live to the end of the world without daylight.”
 
“A Silent Brother, then,” she said. 
 
His eyes softened slightly. “The path of Silent Brotherhood is not open to me.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“Will looked at his sister. “And you don’t care about being a Shadowhunter. How is this: I shall write a letter and give it to you if you promise to deliver it home yourself — and not to return.”

Cecily recoiled; she had many memories of shouting matches with Will, of the china dolls she had owned that he had broken by dropping them out an attic window; but there was also kindness in her memories: the brother who had bandaged up a cut knee, or retied her hair ribbons when they came loose. That kindness was absent from the Will who stood before her now. Her mother had used to cry for the first year or two after Will went; she had said, in Welsh, holding Cecily to her, that they — the Shadowhunters — would “take all the love out of him.” A cold, unloving people, she had told Cecily, who had forbidden her marriage to her husband. What could he want with them, her Will, her little one?

“I will not go,” Cecily said, staring her brother down. “And if you insist that I must, I will — I will —”

The door of the attic slid open and Jem stood silhouetted in the doorway…”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess