Not All That Is Mortal Is Useless.

If People Ever Look Down Upon You For Crying For Fictional Characters, You Should Give Them A Gentle, Pitying Look And Feel Bad For Them. If They've Never Cried For A Fictional Character, Then They've Never Loved One (and What A Joy That Is). If They've Never Cried At A Book, A Movie, A Piece Of Music, Then They've Missed One Of The Great Pleasures Life Has To Offer. Just Because Fiction Does Not Contain Things That Are Real Doesn't Mean It Doesn't Contain Truth, And We Find It Through The Alchemy Of Our Tears.

You Cannot Save Every Fallen Bird," Said Woolsey. "one Will Do," Said Magnus.

Magnus Stood Up And Went To The Window. He Pushed The Curtain Back, Letting In Just Enough Light To Silhouette His Hawklike Profile. "blood," He Said, Half To Himself. "i Had A Dream Two Nights Ago. I Saw A City All Of Blood, With Towers Made Of Bone, And Blood Ran In The Streets Like Water." Simon Slewed His Eyes Over To Jace. "is Standing By The Window Muttering About Blood Something He Does All The Time?" "no," Said Jace, "sometimes He Sits On The Couch And Does It.

Now Before We Do Any Digging Around In That Blond Head Of Yours To Find Out The Truth, I Suggest You Cool Your Temper. And I Know Just Where You Can Do That Best.” Jace Blinked. “are You Sending Me To My Room?

He Touched Her As He Usually Touched His Beloved Violin, With A Soft And Urgent Grace That Left Her Breathless.