#souls

I knew you were crazy, but I didn't realize that you were out of your goddamned mind!! ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#humor #humor

And I remind you of your mother now? I have got to look into a manlier cologne. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#humorous #jace #humor

Crap. It's all crap. Living is crap. Life has no meaning. None. Nowhere to be found. Crap. Why doesn't anybody realize this? ↗

— K-Ske Hasegawa

#crap #dead #death #girl #god

After the rains departed the skies and settled on earth - clear skies; moist brilliant earth - greater clarity returned to life alone with the blue above and made the world below rejoice with the freshness of the recent rain. It left heaven in our souls and a freshness in our hearts. ↗

— Fernando Pessoa

#rains #souls #life

Wear that scarf," he said, pointing to a blue cashmere scarf hanging on a peg. "It matches your eyes." Alec looked at it. Suddenly he was filled with hate - for the scarf, for Magnus, and most of all for himself. "Don't tell me," he said. "The scarf's a hundred years old, and it was given to you by Queen Victoria right before she died, for special services to the Crown or something." Magnus sat up. "What's gotten into you?" Alec stared at him. "Am I the newest thing in this apartment?" "I think that honor goes to Chairman Meow. He's only two." "I said newest, not youngest," Alec snapped. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#cassandra-clare #city-of-lost-souls #fight #humor #jealousy

The moment we begin to fear the opinions of others and hesitate to tell the truth that is in us, and from motives of policy are silent when we should speak, the divine floods of light and life no longer flow into our souls. ↗

— Elizabeth Cady Stanton

#divine #fear #floods #flow #hesitate

Whatever connection we thought we had before this...it doesn't compare to this moment. No matter what happens between us in life, this moment has just merged pieces of our souls together. Well always have that, and in a way it's comforting to know. ↗

— Colleen Hoover

#sky #souls #life

Excellent. I've been told I have a lovely, melodic reading voice." He flipped the book open to the front page, where the title was printed in ornate script. Across from it was a long dedication, the ink faded now and barely legible, though Clary could make out the signature: With hope at last, William Herondale. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#will-herondale #love

Of course he loves me. I’m his sister.” “Blood isn’t love,” said Magnus, and his voice was bitter. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#isabelle-lightwood #love #magnus-bane #love

Blood isn't love ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#love