When you love someone, they become a part of who you are. They're in everything you do. They're in the air you breathe and the water you drink and the blood in your veins. Their touch stays on your skin and their voice stays in your ears and their thoughts stay in your mind. You know their dreams because their nightmares pierce your heart and their good dreams are your dreams too. And you don't think they're perfect, but you know their flaws, the deep-down truth of them, and the shadows of all their secrets, and they don't frighten you away; in fact you love them more for it, because you don't want perfect. You want them. You want—"He broke off then, as if realizing everyone was looking at him again."You want what?" said Dru with enormous eyes."Nothing," Julian said. "I'm just talking.

These pictures are my heart. And if my heart was a canvas, every square inch of it would be painted over with you.

We are bound together, Emma, bound together—I breathe when you breathe, I bleed when you bleed, I’m yours and you’re mine, you’ve always been mine, and I have always, always belonged to you!

You don't want him," she said to the pink-haired girl. "He has syphilis."The girls stared. "Syphilis?""Five percent of people in America have it," said Ty helpfully."I do not have syphilis," Mark said angrily. "There are no sexually transmitted diseases in Faerieland!"”Sorry," Jules said. "You know how syphilis is. Attacks the brain.

He picked up the sketchbook, turning it so she could see his work - a gorgeous rendition of a stone bridge they'd passed, surrounded by the drooping boughs of oak trees."You could sketch me," said Emma. She flung herself down onto her seat, leaning her head on her hand. "Draw me like one of your french girls.

And if my heart was a canvas, every square inch of it would be painted over with you.

Truth is to be found in dreams,” the King said, looking down at them. From this angle, Emma could see that odd splitting of his face ended at his throat, which was ordinary skin. “Tell me, Shadowhunters: you enter a cave. Inside the cave is and egg, lit from within and glowing. You know that it beats with you dreams-not the ones you have during the day, but the ones you half-remember in the morning. It splits open.What emerges?” “A rose,” said Mark. “With thorns.” Cristina cut her eyes toward him in surprise but remained motionless. “An angel,” she said. “With bloody hands.” “A knife,” said Emma. “Pure and clean.” “Bars,” Julian said quietly. “The bars of a prison cell.

We fear things because we value them. We fear losing people because we love them. We fear dying because we value being alive. Don't wish you didn't fear anything. All that would mean is that you didn't feel anything. - Julian Blackthorn

We fear things because we value them. We fear losing people because we love them. We fear dying because we value being alive. Don't wish you didn't fear anything. All that would mean is that you didn't feel anything." - Julian Blackthorn

He will choose us," Julian said. "We are his family."Kieran's eye shone. "I wouldn'tbe so sure, young Shadowhunter. Those of the Hunt are loyal to the Hunt.""He isn't of the Hunt," Emma said. "He is a Blackthorn.

Julian had heard stories-whispers really-of other Shadowhunter children who thought or felt differently. Who had trouble focusing. Who claimed letters rearranged themselves on the page when they tried to read them. Who fell prey to dark sadnesses that seemed to have no reason, or fits of energy they couldn't control.Whispers were all there were, though, because the Clave hated to admit that Nephilim like that existed. They were disappeared into the 'dregs' portion of the Academy, trained to stay out of the way of other Shadowhunters. Sent to the far corners of the globe like shameful secrets to be hidden. There were no words to describe Shadowhunters whose minds were shaped differently, no real words to describe differences at all.Because if there were words, Julian thought, there would have to be acknowledgement. And there were things the Clave refused to acknowledge.

Break my heart, he said. "Break it in pieces. I give you my permission.

This cat is looking at me with judgment.”“He’s not,” said Jules. “That’s just his face.”“You look at me the same way,” Mark said, glancing at Julian. “Judgy face.

You’ve got a lot of responsibility now,” Jace said to Julian. “You’ll have to make sure Emma winds up with a guy who deserves her.” Julian was strangely white-faced. Maybe he was feeling the effects of the ceremony, Emma thought. It had been strong magic; she still felt it sizzling through her blood like champagne bubbles. But Jules looked as if he’d been slapped.“What about me?” Emma said, quickly. “Don’t I have to make sure Jules winds up with someone who deserves him?”“Absolutely. I did it for Alec, Alec did it for me — well, actually, he hated Clary at first, but he came around.” “I BET you didn’t like Magnus much, either,” said Julian, still with the same odd, stiff look on his face.“Maybe not,” said Jace, “but I never would have said so.”“Because it would have hurt Alec’s feelings?” Emma asked.“No,” said Jace, “because Magnus would have turned me into a hat rack.

You don't have to do this.""I think I do," Julian said. "I remember making a vow to that affect.""Whither thou goest, i will go, whatever stupid thing you do, i shall do also'." Emma said. "Was that the vow?

He remembered running through the streets of Alicante with Tavvy in his arms, stumbling on the cracked paving. trying to keep his little brother's face mashed against his shoulder so that he wouldn't see the blood and death all around him.