I read them all. Every word you wrote. You and I, Tess, we’re alike. We live and breathe words. It was books that kept me from taking my own life after I thought I could never love anyone, never be loved by anyone again. It was books that made me feel that perhaps I was not completely alone. They could be honest with me, and I with them. Reading your words, what you wrote, how you were lonely sometimes and afraid, but always brave; the way you saw the world, its colors and textures and sounds, I felt- I felt the same way you thought, hoped, felt, dreamed. I felt I was dreaming and thinking and feeling with you. I dreamed what you dreamed, wanted what you wanted, and then I realized that truly I just wanted you. The girl behind the scrawled letters. I loved you from the moment I read them. I love you still.
Cassandra Clare, how dare you make me ship Magnus and Will? Why do you torture me like that? What have I done to you?
“I have wanted to do this,” he said, “every moment of every hour of every day that I have been with you since the day I met you. But you know that. You must know. Don’t you?”
She looked up at him, lips parted in bewilderment. “Know what?” she said.
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"If no one cares for you at all, do you even really exist?"
- William Herondale, Clockwork Prince, pag. 156.
“He was really going to have do something about this annoying softhearted impuls to assist the desperate, Magnus thought. That, and his weakness for blue eyes.”
Clockwork Prince, pag.143.
I want Will Herondale leaving me books in front of my bedroom door.
“Reparations,” said Jem very suddendly, setting down the pen he was holding.
Will looked at him in puzzlement. “Is this a game? We just blurt out whatever word comes next to mind? In that case mine’s ‘genuphobia’. It means an unreasonable fear of knees”.
Gideon Lightwood. You were merely nominated and I am already in love with you.
Lightwoods.
I’ve finished the prologue and I’m already a mess.
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