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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #cas
Newsflash she already has body image issues. It's an intrinsic part of being a woman. Every woman in the world has some part of herself that she absolutely hates. Her hands are too small, her feet are too big, her hair is too straight, too curly, her ears stick out, her bums too flat, her nose is too big and, you know, nothing you can say will change how we feel. What men don't understand is, the right clothes, the right shoes, the right makeup it just... It, it hides the flaws we think we have. They make us look beautiful to ourselves. That's what makes us look beautiful to others. Used to be all she needed to feel beautiful was a pink tutu and a plastic tiara. And we spend our whole lives trying to feel that way again. ↗
He told me that from now on, everything I did and everything he did was of the utmost importance: any word spoken, the slightest gesture, would take on a meaning, and everything that happened between us would change us continually. 'For that reason,'he said,'I wish I were able to suspend time at this moment and keep things exactly at this point, because I feel this instant is a true beginning. We have a definite but unknown quantity of experience at our disposal. As soon as the hourglass is turned, the sand will begin to run out and once it starts, it cannot stop until it's all gone. That's why I wish I could hold it back at the start. We should make a minimum of gestures, pronounce a minimum of words, even see each other as seldom as possible, if that would prolong things. We don't know how much of everything we have ahead of us so we have to take the greatest precautions not to destroy the beauty of what we have. Everything exists in limited quantity-especially happiness. If a love is to come into being, it is all written down somewhere, and also its duration and content. If you could arrive at the complete intensity the first day, it would be ended the first day. And so if it's something you want so much that you'd like to have it prolonged in time, you must be extremely careful not to make the slightest excessive demand that might prevent it from developing to the greatest extent over the longest period...If the wings of the butterfly are to keep their sheen, you mustn't touch them. We mustn't abuse something which is to bring light into both our lives. Everything else in my life only weighs me down and shuts out the light. This thing wih you seems like a window that is opening up. I want it to remain open... ↗
Coming into your powers can be a very confusing time. Perhaps there is a book on the subject. If you like, we can go see Marian." Yeah, right. Choices and Changes. A Modern Girl's Guide to Casting. My Mom Wants to Kill Me: A Self-Help Book For Teens. ↗
A little white woman, . . . [a] tiny little white woman I could fit in my pocket.’ . . . ‘And I don’t know why I’m surprised. You don’t even notice it – you never notice. You think it’s normal. Everywhere we go, I’m alone in this… this sea of white. I barely know any black folk any more, Howie. My whole life is white. I don’t see any black folk unless they be cleaning under my feet in the fucking café in your fucking college. Or pushing a fucking hospital bed through a corridor . . . ‘I gave up my life for you. I don’t even know who I am any more.’ . . . ‘Could you have found anybody less like me if you’d scoured the earth? . . . My leg weighs more than that woman. What have you made me look like in front of everybody in this town? You married a big black bitch and you run off with a fucking leprechaun? ↗
For the few months that I was living vicariously through wine I came to the conclusion that what my heart desired reflected it’s damage; that I’m too spoiled to be eaten, I can’t live with not knowing how strange tongues taste, And that sometimes we’re all a kind of mosaic of feeling. There was one night in particular: Outside, I lit my cigarette and cuddled with it. You stood up with your back against the hard light that gave you the halo of a pseudo angel and Whisked me up like I was broken. I wasn’t. Was I to feel that in your touch I was but a million little pieces? Is that what you wanted? Were your weird intentions golden? The wine did the talking when I couldn’t say how much I didn’t understand your inner workings Perchance you’d try to explain. This was the same night the clock broke after I finally coughed out my distain for Your laziness, your lack of responsibility, your growing pains (even though you weren’t growing) and I think you kissed me to shut me up (even though the wine said it was love). I froze for a while. In time’s absence I studied you instead of my books. Each advancement in knowing you an even bigger advancement in the theory that I had That you were the opposite of beautiful. We are the artists of our mosaics. We choose its pallet and if your heart screams red, then blues and yellows will become the peripheries. You were muted with the desire for playing with the Colours you couldn’t make. The wine made me realize that what was broken didn’t require your mending that wine was the only way you could be anything but cowardly. ↗
Tell me what you see,” Michael said. Lucy looked about the room. She didn’t see anything much at first but old dusty furniture and old heavy draperies here and there. There were two large windows, but vines grew all over them, so that they didn’t let in much light. There was nothing else but dust and shadows. Lucy was disappointed. Then she began to wonder. What made the shadows? They moved across the room and disappeared, and other took their places. And every one of them was the shadow of a person. They walked about soundlessly and appeared to gesture and talk to one another. “Michael!” Lucy whispered softly, touching his arm. He was smiled vaguely, as though thinking of something far away. “Michael, who makes the shadows?” Michael looked down at her and smiled. “They’re the shadows of the people who lived in this castle,” he said. “It’s part of the magic.” “Then – it is enchanted! I felt there was something odd about it.” Michael was silent again and Lucy followed the direction of his eyes. He was watching the shadow of a young girl as it moved about. She seemed very beautiful and graceful. She wore long robes, with sleeves that fell to the floor, and her hair was long, hanging to her knees. She was walking back and forth and every once in a while, Lucy thought she held out her arms in their direction. “What does she want?” she whispered. “Is she trying to tell us something?” “She’s tired of waiting,” Michael said, “for the enchantment to be over. She gets very impatient sometimes. That is Gloria, the first princess who ever lived here. This castle was made for her.” “Was she a – Fairy Princess?” “Well, not at first. Would you like to hear about her?” “Oh, yes!” said Lucy. ↗
She’s got the kind of exotic beauty I always dreamed about. But really, who cares about stuff like that anymore? Being pretty isn’t going to keep my butt out of Omega’s crosshairs. ↗
But it doesn't change what we are to each other. It's like there's always been a piece of my soul missing, and it's inside you, Clary. I know I told you once that wheter God exists or not, we're on our own. But when I'm with you, I'm not. ↗
#city-of-lost-souls #clary-fray #god #jace-lightwood #jace-wayland
Fate determines your caste. You must accept it and live according to the rules." You can't really believe that!" I do believe it. That man's misfortune is that he cannot accept his caste, his fate." I know that the Indians wear their caste as a mark upon their foreheads for all to see. I know that in England, we have our own unacknowledged caste system. A laborer will never hold a seat in Parliament. Neither will a woman. I don't think I've ever questioned such things until this moment. But what about will and desire? What if someone wants to change things." Kartik keeps his eyes on the room "You cannot change your caste. You cannot go against fate." That means there is no hope of a better life. It is a trap." That is how you see it," he says softly. What do you mean?" It can be a relief to follow the path that has been laid oud for you, to know your course and play your part in it." But how can you be sure that you are following the right course? What if there is no such thing as destiny, only choice?" Then I do not choose to live without destiny," he says with a slight smile. ↗
As Luke knelt down beside his corpse, Clary couldn’t help but remember what he had said about having loved Valentine once, about having been his closest friend. Luke, she thought with a pang. Surely he couldn’t be sad — or even grieved? But then again, perhaps everyone should have someone to grieve for them, and there was no one else to grieve for Valentine. ↗
#city-of-glass #death #grief #luke-garroway #the-mortal-instruments
