Best 134 quotes in «jem carstairs quotes» category

If she lived until the sun died, there would never be any other for her besides Will and Jem, those two twin souls, the only souls she had ever loved.

If you pretend to feel nothing, the pretence may become true. said Jem. That would be a pity.

No more. The yin fen has taken so much from me: my family, the years of my life, the strength in my body, the breath in my lungs. It will not take from me this too: the most precious thing we are given by the Angel. The ability to love. I love Tessa Gray. And I will make sure that she knows it.

I had a parabatai myself once, and the bond of it is precious to me.

I know,” he said, looking down at himself — skin like papier-mache, ribs like violin strings. “I am not — I mean, I look —” “Beautiful,” she said, and the word was a pronouncement. “You are beautiful, James Carstairs.

I’m not sorry that I met you. If we never meet again, I will hope that one day a weapon made by my hand may yet prove useful to you in some way.

I have not stopped loving her, nor my parabatai; love does not stop when someone dies.

I hope you can break that protection before tomorrow night, or I wouldn't say much about our chances." "Will" Jem chided "Don't say that." "You're right." Will said, "I shouldn't underestimate my own skills. Should Tessa make a mess of things, I'm sure I'll be able to fight our way through the slavering masses of vampires to freedom.

I loved Jem- she said- I love him still, and he loved me, but i'm nobody's Will. My heart is my own. It is beyond you to control it. It has been beyond me to control it

In your eyes I have always found grace.

I shall do what I can to make some provision that I might see you again, and Tessa again. For you are half my heart, and she is the other. As long as I have one of you to be my north star, my heart shall not die, and I shall remain your James Carstairs.

I sometimes think there is nothing more painful than love denied. To love someone you cannot have, to stand beside your heart's desire and be unable to take them in your arms. A love that cannot be requited. I can think of nothing more painful than that.

I should have known what you would do,” Jem said in a low voice. “I always know what you will do. I should have known you would put your hands into the fire.” “And I should have known you would throw that packet away,” said Will, without rancor. “It was—it was a madly noble thing to do. I understand why you did it.” “I was thinking of Tessa.” Jem drew his knees up and rested his chin on them, then laughed softly. “Madly noble. Isn’t that meant to be your area of expertise? Suddenly I am the one who does ridiculous things and you tell me to stop?” “God,” said Will. “When did we change places?” The firelight played over Jem’s face and hair as he shook his head. “It is a very strange thing, to be in love,” he said. “It changes you.” Will looked down at Jem, and what he felt, more than jealousy, more than anything else, was a wistful desire to commiserate with his best friend, to speak of the feelings he held in his heart. For were they not the same feelings? Did they not love the same way, the same person? But, “I wish you wouldn’t risk yourself,” was all he said. Jem stood up. “I have always wished that about you.” Will raised his eyes, so drowsy with sleep and the tiredness that came with healing runes that he could see Jem only as a haloed figure of light. “Are you going?” “Yes, to sleep.” Jem touched his fingers lightly to Will’s healing hands. “Let yourself rest, Will.

I think if two souls are meant to be together, they will remain together on the Wheel and be together again in the life after this one, whatever happens to us now.

I thought I would walk with you a little way, my parabatai.

It lightens my heart to see you with it. We could all do with lighter hearts tonight.

I will tell you the story of it. Another story of Lightwoods and Herondales and Fairchilds.

It’s about Will. About Will, and me.” “He loves you,” Jem said. “I know he loves you. We spoke of it before he left here.” Though the coldness had not returned to his voice, he sounded suddenly almost unnaturally calm. Tessa was shocked. “I didn’t know you had ever talked of it with each other. Will did not say.” “Nor did you ever tell me of his feelings, though you knew for months. We all have our secrets that we keep because we do not want to hurt the people who love us.” There was a sort of warning in his voice, or was she imagining it?

James reared up from his bed and threw himself into Uncle Jem’s arms. He had heard some people found the Silent Brothers frightening, with their silent speech and their stitched eyes, but to him the sight of a Silent Brother’s robe always meant Uncle Jem, always meant steadfast love.

Jem’s knees gave out, and he sank to the trunk at the foot of his bed, still playing. He played Will breathing the name Cecily, and he played himself watching the glint of his own ring on Tessa’s hand on the train from York, knowing it was all a charade, knowing, too, that he wished that it wasn’t. He played the sorrow in Tessa’s eyes when she had come into the music room after Will had told her she would never have children. Unforgivable, that, what a thing to do, and yet Jem had forgiven him. Love was forgiveness, he had always believed that, and the things that Will did, he did out of some bottomless well of pain. Jem did not know the source of that pain, but he knew it existed and was real, knew it as he knew of the inevitability of his own death, knew it as he knew that he had fallen in love with Tessa Gray and that there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it.

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.

Kit straightened up. “Nope, I’m good. Come on Brother Hauntingly Attractive.” “There’s no need to mention this to Tessa.” “And Yet,” said Kit, “I’m gonna.

Kit’s jaw was still set. Jem knew that look. Herondales were always flames, he thought. They loved and suffered as if they would burn away with the sheer force of their own fire.

«Khal epa ta kala». [...] Lo que vale la pena tener, las cosas buenas, nobles y honorables, son difíciles de conseguir.

La eternidad no hace que se olvide lo que has perdido, sólo que soportes la pérdida.

— Jem es la mejor parte de mí. No espero que lo entiendas. Le debo esto. –Entonces, ¿qué soy yo? –preguntó Cecily. Will exhaló, demasiado irritado consigo mismo para comprobarlo. –Eres mi debilidad. –Y Tessa es tu corazón – dijo ella, no con enojo sino pensativamente. –No soy una tonta, como te dije – agregó por su expresión de sorpresa. –Sé que la amas.

Jem gave her a wistful look. “Must you go? I was rather hoping that you’d stay and be a ministering angel, but if you must go, you must.” “I’ll stay,” Will said a bit crossly, and threw himself down in the armchair Tessa had just vacated. “I can minister angelically.” “None too convincingly. And you’re not as pretty to look at as Tessa is,” Jem said, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the pillow. “How rude. Many who have gazed upon me have compared it to gazing at the radiance of the sun.” Jem still had his eyes closed. “If they mean that it gives you a headache, they aren’t wrong.

Jem looked at ease in a white sweater and dark jeans. His black hair had a single, dramatic streak of silver in it that stood out against his brown skin. “How are you finding the training?” he asked, leaning forward. “I don’t bruise as much anymore,” Simon said, shrugging. “That’s excellent,” Jem said. “It means you’re finding your feet and deflecting more blows.” “Really?” Simon said. “I thought it was because I was dead inside.

Jem grinned. “Where have you been? The Blue Dragon? The Mermaid?” “The Devil Tavern if you must know.” Will sighed and leaned against one of the posts of the bed. “I had such plans for the evening. The pursuit of blind drunkenness and wayward women was my goal. But alas, it was not to be. No sooner had I consumed my third drink in the Devil than I was accosted by a delightful small flower-selling child who asked me for two-pence for a daisy. The price seemed steep, so I refused. When I told the girl as much, she proceeded to rob me.” “A little girl robbed you?” Tessa said. “Actually, she wasn’t a little girl at all, as it turns out, but a midget in a dress who goes by the name of Six-Fingered Nigel.” “Easy mistake to make,” Jem said.

Jem said, “we want you to stay, and to know that the choice is entirely yours, and we wanted to show you something. We want you to know there is nothing in this house more precious to us than you.

Lily lit up. “Do I want to come on a bro road trip with you, rushing to the aid of gorgeous damsel in distress, Jem I’d-love-to-climb-’em Carstairs?

La desesperación nunca era más fuerte que al pensar en ellos. No podía traicionarlos rindiéndose. Eran Will y Tessa, y tú eras Ke Jian Ming. Eras James Carstairs. Eras Jem.

Miraron juntos al báculo. Las letras estaban desgastadas por el tiempo como por la propia carne de Zachariah, pero habían sido grabadas profundamente en la madera en los lugares precisos donde pondría sus manos cuando peleara. Entonces, de alguna manera, siempre estarían peleando juntos. Las letras eran W y H.

Los ojos de la mujer fallecida miraban su rostro, un último destello vacío antes de que la oscuridad consumiera todo. Parecía como si él estuviera tan vacío como ella. ¿Por qué había luchado? Entonces recordó. No podía permitirse olvidarlo. Tessa, pensó. Will.

Meet me in the music room. -J

Most people are lucky to have even one great love in their life. You have found two.

No, said Jem, because he was always James Carstairs when he spoke of what was dearest to him. Not mine. My parabatai’s. W and H. William Herondale. Will

Let’s go see who can eat the most dumplings in the shortest amount of time. And duck! You really ought to try pressed duck! It’s a great delicacy.” Jem looked at Will, suppressing a smile. His friend glared back, but at last neither of them could hold back their laughter. Will said, “There is nothing so sweet as feasting upon the bones of my enemies. Especially with you at my side.

-Nunca me había importado -continuó él-. Estar perdido, quiero decir. Siempre había pensado que no se podía estar del todo perdido si se conocía el propio corazón. Pero me temo que puedo perderme si no conozco el tuyo.

Not forever, Tessa thought. They had a long, long time. A lifetime. His lifetime. And she would lose him one day, as she had lost Will, and her heart would break, as it had broken before. And she would put herself back together and go on, because the memory of having had Jem would be better than never having had him at all.

Nuestro corazón necesita un espejo. Nos vemos mejor en los ojos de aquellos que nos aman. Y existe una belleza que sólo proporciona la brevedad.

Now, don’t tell me that’s all the questions you have.’ Oh, I have more than you think. ‘Why can’t you sleep?’ She saw that she had caught him off guard; a look of hesitancy flashed across his face before he spoke. But why hesitate? she thought. He could always lie, or simply deflect, as Will would have. But Jem, she sensed instinctively, wouldn’t lie. “I have bad dreams.’ ‘I was dreaming too,’ she said. ‘I dreamed about your music.’ He grinned. ‘A nightmare, then?’ ‘No. It was lovely. The loveliest thing I’ve heard since I came to this horrible city.’ ‘London isn’t horrible,’ Jem said equably. ‘You simply have to get to know it. You must come with me out into London someday. I can show you the parts of it that are beautiful - that I love.

Seas lo que seas físicamente, hombre o mujer, fuerte o débil, enfermo o sano, todo eso no importa tanto como lo que tengas en el corazón. Si posees el alma de un guerrero, eres un guerrero. Todas esas otras cosas son tan sólo el cristal de la lámpara, pero tú eres la luz que brilla en su interior.

Oh, I can never get enough," he said. "Which, incidentally, is what your sister said to me when-" The carriage door flew open. A hand shot out, grabbed Will by the back of the shirt, and hauled him inside.

Perhaps it is not such a bad thing to be set apart.

She remembered the boy she had known, who'd given his love as freely as breathing.

She glanced at Jem expecting to see him blinking in surprise or hurt, but he was only smiling a little as if Will were a kitten that had tried to bite him.

She smiled. Her skin looked whiter than he recalled, and dark spidery veins were beginning to show beneath its surface. Her hair was still the color of spun silver and her eyes were still green as a cat’s. She was still beautiful. Looking at her, he was in London again. He saw the gaslight and smelled the smoke and dirt and horses, the metallic tang of fog, the flowers in Kew Gardens. He saw a boy with black hair and blue eyes like Alec’s, heard violin music like the sound of silver water. He saw a girl with long brown hair and a serious face. In a world where everything went away from him eventually, she was one of the few remaining constants. And then there was Camille.

Some secrets, she thought, were better told; some were better left the burden of the carrier, that they might not cause pain to others. It was why she had not told Will she loved him, when there was nothing either of them could do about it.

Simon had only had a few encounters with Jem Carstairs, who was apparently as old as his wife, Tessa Gray. They both looked amazingly fit for 150 years. Tessa even looked pretty hot. (Maybe Jem looked hot too? As Simon had thought once before, he probably wasn’t the greatest judge of male attractiveness.) Was it weird to think people who were twice as old as your grandparents were good-looking?