We are not our parents, Gabriel. We do not have to carry the burden of their choices or their sins.
You know," Gabriel said, "there was a time I thought we could be friends, Will." "There was a time I thought I was a ferret," Will said, "but that turned out to be the opium haze. Did you know it had that effect? Because I didn't.
There was a time I thought I was a ferret.
All Lightwoods look the same to me—
A very magnanimous statement, Gideon,” said Magnus. “I’m Gabriel.” Magnus waved a hand. “All Lightwoods look the same to me.
Would you?” said Gabriel to Will, hotly. “If it was your family?” His lip curled. “Never mind. It’s not as if you know the meaning of loyalty —” “Gabriel.” Gideon’s voice was a reprimand to his brother. “Do not speak to Will in that manner.
Five," she said. Her lips and cheeks were flushed, but her gaze was steady. "Five?" Gabriel echoed blankly. "My rating," she said, and smiled at him. "Your skill and technique may, perhaps, require work, but the native talent is certainly there. What you require is practice." "And you are willing to be my tutor?" "I should be very insulted if you chose another," Cecily said, and leaned up to kiss him again.
Wasn't it? Is loyalty still a commendable quality when it is misdirected?
Will gave a short laugh. He was in gear as if he had just come from the practice room, and his hair curled damply against his temples. He was not looking at Tessa, but she had grown used to that. Will hardly ever looked at her unless he had to.
Are you implying that shreds of my reputation remain intact?" Will demanded with mock horror. "Clearly I have been doing something wrong. Or not something wrong, as the case may be." He banged on the side of the carriage. "Thomas! We must away at once to the nearest brothel. I seek scandal and low companionship.
I think' she said, choosing her words with care, ; that any good impulse can be twisted into something evil.
Gabriel’s green eyes sought Will. “It was demon pox, wasn’t it? You know all about it, don’t you? Aren’t you some sort of expert?” “Well, you needn’t act as if I invented it,” said Will.
I think when we make choices—for each choice is individual of the choices we have made before—we must examine not only our reasons for making them but what result they will have, and whether good people will be hurt by our decisions.
He banged on the side of the carriage. "Thomas! We must away at once to the nearest brothel. I seek scandal and low companionship.
I am not a certified idiot—" "Lack of certification hardly proves intelligence," Will muttered.
Will's Father's gaze went immediately to Gabriel, and then to Cecily, his eyes narrowing. "And who is this gentlemen?" Will's grin widened. "Oh him," he said. "This is Cecliy's friend, Mr. Gabriel Lightworm." Gabriel, half in the act of stretching his hand to greet Mr. Herondale, froze in horror. "Lightwood," he sputtered. "Gabriel Lightwood.
Nicely done, brother," said Gabriel from the bed, blinking sleepy green eyes at Gideon. Gideon threw a scone at him.
Hmph," she said. "I'd like to see you learn how to manage sitting and standing up straight in stays and petticoats and a dress with a foot's worth of train!" "So would I," said Gideon from across the room.
I was just thinking of bundling up Cecily and feeding her to the ducks at Hyde Park," said Will, pushing his wet hair back and favoring Jem with a rare smile. "I could use your assistance." "Unfortunately, you may have to delay your plans for suicide a bit longer. Gabriel Lightwood is downstairs, and I have two words for you. Two of your favorite words, at least when you put them together." "'Utter simpleton'?" inquired Will. "'Worthless upstart'?" Jem grinned. "'Demon pox,'" he said.
Hiding here, are you? That’s awkward.” “Why?” “Because I had intended to hide here myself.” “You may hide here with me, if you wish.
To marry a girl just to make her a widow,” said Gabriel Lightwood. “Many would say that was not a kindness.
Carstairs is alright, I suppose. If you like that sort.” “Oh?” “The taken. The uninterested.” “As opposed to… you, Gabriel?” “Well, yes.
He has become a worm. That is what I am telling you." "I don't suppose it would be possible," said Henry into the silence, "to, er, step on him?
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