And You Should Not Be

Magnus, I Wish I Had The Nerve To Wear The Kind Of Pants You Do.

History Gets Written By The Winners.

Jem, Cecily Thought, With A Pang In Her Heart. Her Brother Had Always Looked To Him As A Kind Of North Star, A Compass That Would Ever Point Him Toward The Right Decision. She Had Never Quite Thought Of Her Brother As Lucky Before, And Certainly Would Not Have Expected To Do So Today, And Yet-and Yet In A Way He Had Been. To Always Have Someone To Turn To Like That, And Not To Worry Constantly That One Was Looking To The Wrong Stars.

Jem’s Eyes Had Widened, And Then He’d Laughed, A Soft Laugh. “did You Think I Did Not Know You Had A Secret?” He’d Said. “did You Think I Walked Into My Friendship With You With My Eyes Shut? I Did Not Know The Nature Of The Burden You Carried. But I Knew There Was A Burden.” He’d Stood Up. “i Knew You Thought Yourself Poison To All Those Around You,” He’d Added. “i Knew You Thought There To Be Some Corruptive Force About You That Would Break Me. I Meant To Show You That I Would Not Break, That Love Was Not So Fragile. Did I Do That?

I Wouldn't Cut You Out Of My Life Clary, Any More Than I Would Cut Off My Right Hand And Give It To Someone As A Valentine's Day Gift." Gross," Said Clary. "must You?" Simon Grinned. "i Must.