All Quotes By Tag: 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 shefought 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 maybe 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, andhow 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.”

“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”

“But you hate poetry!Yes, but you make me want to write it.”

“Being a vampire is not a curse. It’s a disease,” Tessa filled in. “But they still can’t enter hallowed ground, then? Does that mean they’re damned?” “That depends on what you believe,” said Jem. “And whether you believe in damnation at all.” “But you hunt demons. You must believe in damnation!” “I believe in good and evil,” said Jem. “And I believe the soul is eternal. I don’t believe in the fiery pit, the pitchforks, or the endless torment. I do not believe you can threaten people into goodness.”

“Tessa had lain down beside him and slid her arm beneath his head, and put her head on his chest,listening to the ever-weakening beat of his heart. And in the shadows they’d whispered, reminding each other of the stories only they knew. Of the girl who had hit over the head with a water jug the boy who had come to rescue her, and how he had fallen in love with her in that instant. Of a ballroom and a balcony and the moon sailing like a ship untethered through the sky. Of the flutter of the wings of the clockwork Angel. Of holy water and blood.”

“Men may be stronger, but it is women who endure.”

“Why are we bringing him along, again?” Will inquired, of the world in general as well as his sister.Cecily put her hands on her hips. “Why are you bringing Tessa?””Because Tessa and I are going to be married,” Will said, and Tessa smiled; the way that Will’s little sister could ruffle his feathers like no one else was still amusing to her.”Well, Gabriel and I might well be married,” Cecily said. “Someday.”Gabriel made a choking noise, and turned an alarming shade of purple. Will threw up his hands. “You can’t be married Cecily! You’re only fifteen! When I get married, I’ll be eighteen! An adult!”Cecily did not look impressed. “We may have a long engagement,” she said. “But I cannot see why you are counseling me to marry a man my parents have never met.”Will sputtered. “I am not counseling you to marry a man your parents have never met!””Then we are in agreement. Gabriel must meet Mam and Dad.”

“I adore Wilkie Collins,” Tessa cried. “Oh—Armadale! And The Woman in White …Are you laughing at me?”“Not at you,” said Will, grinning, “more because of you. I’ve never seen anyone get soexcited over books before. You’d think they were diamonds.”“Well, they are, aren’t they? Isn’t there anything you love like that? And don’t say ‘spats’ or ‘lawn tennis’ or something silly.”“Good Lord,” he said with mock horror, “it’s like she knows me already.”

“He gazed amusedly down the table at Tessa. “You’re the shape-changer, aren’t you?” he said. “Magnus Bane told me about you. No mark on you at all, they say.” Tessa swallowed and looked him straight in the eye. They were discordantly human eyes, ordinary in his extraordinary face. “No. No mark.” He grinned around his fork. “I do suppose they’ve looked everywhere?” “I’m sure Will’s tried,” said Jessamine in a bored tone.”

“Trains are great dirty smoky things,” said Will. “You won’t like it.” Tessa was unmoved. “I won’t know if I like it until I try it, will I?” “I’ve never swum naked in the Thames before, but I know I wouldn’t like it.” “But think how entertaining for sightseers,” said Tessa, and she saw Jem duck his head to hide the quick flash of his grin.”

“He remembered Tessa weeping in his arms in Paris, and thinking that he had never known the loss she felt, because he had never loved like she had, and that he was afraid that someday he would, and like Tessa he would lose his mortal love. And that it was better to be the one who died than the one who lived on. He had dismissed that, later, as a morbid fantasy, and had not remembered it again until Alec.”

“He opened his mouth. The words were there. He was about to say them when a jolt of terror went through him, the terror of someone who, wandering in a mist, pauses only to realise that they have stopped inches from the edge of a gaping abyss. The way she was looking at him – she could read what was in his eyes, he realised. It must have been written plainly there, like words on the page of a book. There had been no time, no chance, to hide it.“Will,” she whispered. “Say something, Will.”But there was nothing to say. There was only emptiness, as there had been before her. As there would always be.’I have lost everything’, Will thought. ‘Everything.”

“I thought perhaps that when you told me you did not love me that my own feelings would fall away and atrophy, but they have not. They have grown every day. I love you now more desperately, this moment, than I have ever loved you before, and in an hour I will love you more than that”

“One does no question miracles, or complain that they are no constructed perfectly to one’s liking.”

“She leaned forward and caught at his hand, pressing it between her own. The touch was like white fire through his veins. He could not feel her skin only the cloth of her gloves, and yet it did not matter. You kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire. He had wondered once why love was always phrased in terms of burning. The conflagration in his own veins, now, gave the answer.”