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“I can offer you my life, but it is a short life; I can offer you my heart, though I have no idea how many more beats it shall sustain. But I love you enough to hope that you will not care that I am being selfish in trying to make the rest of my life—whatever its length—happy, by spending it with you.”

“I cannot explain love,” he said. “I could not tell you if I loved you the first moment I saw you, or if it was the second or third or fourth. But I remember the first moment I looked at you walking toward me and realized that somehow the rest of the world seemed to vanish when I was with you. That you were the center of everything I did and felt and thought.”

oh JEM🥹

“He cut the thought off before it bloomed in his mind. Better not to think about it; better not to hope and be disappointed. ”

“He would have given everything he had in the world and everything he would ever have, just to lie beside her in the narrow infirmary bed and hold her while she slept. Pulling away from her had been like pulling his own skin off, but he’d had to do it.
The way he always had to. The way he always had to deny himself what he wanted.”

i need him🤧

“she curled against him, her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. She felt him jerk with surprise.
“Did I hurt you?” she whispered, belatedly remembering his back.
“I don’t care,” he said fervently. “I don’t care.” His arms went around her, and he held her; she rested her cheek against the warm juncture of his neck and shoulder. ”

“ “I thought I had been escaping into sleep—that real life was the nightmare and that sleep was where I could find peace.”

“Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again.
For then the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.
—Matthew Arnold, “Longing”

“To tell you of my feelings first, before I showed them. To write poetry for you—”
“You don’t even like poetry,” Tessa said, her voice catching on a half laugh of relief.
“No. But you make me want to write it. Does that not count for anything?”
🫶🥹🥹🥹🥹

i love my men DESPERATE

wasn't expecting THAT ALSO WILLS AND TESSAS MAKE OUT SESH?GAGGED ME

“Tessa had even pleaded with Magnus to come in with her to help break the news, but he had refused, on the grounds that internecine Shadowhunter dramas had nothing to do with him, and he had a novel to get back to besides.”

i love magnus sm and it makes me wonderrrr does he have his own book?👀👀👀

“No, even though you are the perfect picture of Jessamine, I can see Tessa through it somehow—as if, if I were to scrape away a layer of paint, there would be my Tessa underneath.”

“I look so delicate, she had thought with detachment, staring at the mirror’s silvered surface as Sophie had fussed about her. Like a faerie princess. It was easy to think such thoughts when the reflection was not truly your own.”

.

“Tell me this is not a dream, he had whispered to her as she’d put her arms around him, and then he’d no longer known what was waking and what was sleeping.”
.

"But all these were things he could not want, because they were things he could not have, and wanting what you could not have led to misery and madness.”

“when he touched even her hand, he wanted to embrace her. He wanted to feel her against him the way he had in the attic. He wanted to know the taste of her skin and the smell of her hair. He wanted to make her laugh. He wanted to sit and listen to her talk about books until his ears fell off."

“He did not want to avoid her—indeed, he had failed miserably at it that afternoon, accompanying her not just to training but also to the drawing room afterward. Sometimes he wondered if he did these things just to test himself. To see if the feelings had gone. But they had not. When he saw her, he wanted to be with her; when he was with her, he ached to touch her; "

“Your woe hath been my anguish; yea, I quail
And perish in your perishing unblest.
And I have searched the highths and depths, the scope
Of all our universe, with desperate hope
To find some solace for your wild unrest.
—James Thomson, “The City of Dreadful Night”

“The virtue of angels is that they cannot deteriorate;
their flaw is that they cannot improve. Man’s
flaw is that he can deteriorate; and his virtue is
that he can improve.
—Hasidic saying”

“They stood face-to-face, chest to chest. His breath stirred her hair. She felt the fever rising off him like mist off the Thames; sensed the pounding of the blood through his skin; saw with a strange clarity the pulse at his throat, the light on the pale curls of his hair where they lay against his paler neck. Prickles of heat ran up and down her skin, bewildering her.”

pasiunea bate kinku!!asta vreau DORINTA

“He touched her as he usually touched his beloved violin, with a soft and urgent grace that left her breathless. They seemed to share his fever now; their bodies burned, and their hair was wet with sweat, pasted to their foreheads and necks. Tessa didn’t care; she wanted this heat, this near-pain. "

this people were close to fucking and i got emotional WHAT ARE THEY DOING TO ME

“Tell me this is not a dream,” Will whispered, nuzzling his face into the side of her neck. Tessa jumped. He felt feverishly hot against her skin. His lips grazed her cheekbone; they were as soft as she remembered.”

“Ni hen piao liang.”

JEM.
i'm so head over heels for them it's embarrassing

“. And everywhere books—books on the side tables, books on the bed, books in stacks on the floor, books double-lined in shelves along the walls.”

il besc.

“James,” he said. “Ordinarily only Will calls me that.”
“I’m sorry—”
“No. Don’t be. I like the sound of it on your lips.”
Lips. There was something strangely, delicately indelicate about the word, like a kiss itself. It seemed to hover in the air between them while they both hesitated.Jem.who could make her feel as if he were running his fingers along her bare skin just by looking at her—”

“What she really wanted to read was A Tale of Two Cities, but Will had quoted Sydney Carton to her enough times that she was afraid that picking it up would make her think of him, and make the weight of her nervousness greater. After all, it was never Darnay he quoted, only Sydney, drunk and wrecked and dissipated. Sydney, who died for love.”

“It was not her favorite of the Brontë sisters’ books—that honor went to Jane Eyre, and then Wuthering Heights, with Tenant a distant third—but she had read the other two so many times that no surprises lay between the pages, only phrases so familiar to her they had become like old friends. ”

“Must I go bound while you go free
Must I love a man who doesn’t love me
Must I be born with so little art
As to love a man who’ll break my heart?”
 

“But I feel myself losing myself—” He groped for words. “I feel myself diminished, parts of me spiraling away into the darkness, that which is good and honest and true—If you hold it away from yourself long enough, do you lose it entirely? If no one cares for you at all, do you even really exist?”

i love will sm iar ma dezhidrateaza