#gray

If you do not help me," Tessa said to Jem, "I swear, I will change into you, and I will lift him myself. And then everyone here will see what you look like in a dress." She fixed him with a look. "Do you understand? ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#tessa-gray #change

Will grinned. “Some of these books are dangerous,” he said. “It’s wise to be careful.” “One must always be careful of books,” said Tessa, “and what is inside them, for words have the power to change us.” “I’m not sure a book has ever changed me,” said Will. “Well, there is one volume that promises to teach one how to turn oneself into an entire flock of sheep—” “Only the very weak-minded refuse to be influenced by literature and poetry,” said Tessa, determined not to let him run wildly off with the conversation. “Of course, why one would want to be an entire flock of sheep is another matter entirely,” Will finished. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#tessa-gray #will-herondale #change

Both of us victims of the same twentieth-century plague. Not the Black Death, this time; the Gray Life. ↗

— Aldous Huxley

#life #plague #death

Will. For a moment her heart hesitated. She remembered when Will had died, her agony, the long nights alone, reaching across the bed every morning when she woke up, for years expecting to find him there, and only slowly growing accustomed to the fact that side of the bed would always be empty. The moments when she had found something funny and turned to share the joke with him, only to be shocked anew that he was not there. The worst moments, when, sitting alone at breakfast, she had realized that she had forgotten the precise blue of his eyes or the depth of his laugh; that, like the sound of Jem's violin music, they had faded into the distance where memories are silent. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#loneliness #loss #love #memories #tessa-gray

He dropped his voice, so low that Tessa wasn’t sure if what he said next was real or part of the dream darkness rising to claim her, though she fought against it. “I’ve never minded it,” he went on. “Being lost, that is. I had always thought one could not be truly lost if one knew one’s own heart. But I fear I may be lost without knowing yours.” He closed his eyes as if he were bone-weary, and she saw how thin his eyelids were, like parchment paper, and how tired he looked. “Wo ai ni, Tessa,” he whispered. “Wo bu xiang shi qu ni.” She knew, without knowing how she knew, what the words meant. I love you. And I don’t want to lose you. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#jem-carstairs #love #romance #tessa-gray #dreams

You are the first dream, the only dream I ever was unable to stop myself from dreaming. You are the first dream of my soul, and from that dream I hope will come all other dreams, a lifetime's worth. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#will-herondale #dreams

You became to me the visible incarnation of that unseen ideal whose memory haunts us artists like an exquisite dream. ↗

— Oscar Wilde

#dreams

If no one in the entire world cared about you, did you really exist at all? ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#theresa-gray #world

Some days i'm bursting at the seams With all my half remembered dreams And then it shoots me down again I feel the dampness as it creeps I hear you coughing in your sleep Beneath a broken window pane Tomorrow girl i'll buy you chips A lollipop to stain your lips And it'll all be right as rain This ain't no love that's guiding me ↗

— David Gray

#love #dreams

I can now recreate life in a way that was hidden from me, before.'A dream of form in days of thought: ↗

— Oscar Wilde

#the-picture-of-dorian-gray #dreams