Sebastian Quotes

Sebastian just smiled. “I could hear your heart beating,” he said softly. “When you were watching me with Valentine. Did it bother you?” “That you seem to be dating my dad?” Jace shrugged. "You’re a little young for him, to be honest.” “What?” For the first time since Jace had met him, Sebastian seemed flabbergasted.

I have a fetish for damsels in distress.” “Don’t be sexist.” “Not at all. My services are also available to gentlemen in distress. It’s an equal opportunity fetish.

And I don’t see how Sebastian can be all that fond of Jace, either. He was horribly jealous of him all his life. He thought Jace was Valentine’s favorite,” added Clary. “Not to mention,” Magnus noted, “that Jace killed him. That would put anyone off.

Sebastian never does anything just for fun.” Jace took Clary’s hand and pulled her toward him. “But I do.

Isabelle and Sebastian? Hardly. Sebastian’s a nice guy – Isabelle only likes dating thoroughly inappropriate boys our parents will hate. Mundanes, Downworlders, petty crooks…” “Thanks,” Simon said. “I’m glad to be classed with the criminal element.

So what's their plan, hitting Sebastian over the head with Jace until he passes out?

Romanian? That's impressive," said Jace. "Not many people speak it." "Do you?" Sebastian asked with interest. "Not really," Jace said with a smile so disarming Simon knew he was lying. "My Romanian is pretty much limited to useful phrases like, 'Are these snakes poisonous?' and 'But you look much too young to be a police officer.

Clary, Despite everything, I can't bear the thought of this ring being lost forever, any more then I can bear the thought of leaving you forever. And though I have no choice about the one, at least I can choose about the other. I'm leaving you our family ring because you have as much right to it as I do. I'm writing this watching the sun come up. You're asleep, dreams moving behind your restless eyelids. I wish I knew what you were thinking. I wish I could slip into your head and see the world the way you do. I wish I could see myself the way you do. But maybe I dont want to see that. Maybe it would make me feel even more than I already do that I'm perpetuating some kind of Great Lie on you, and I couldn't stand that. I belong to you. You could do anything you wanted with me and I would let you. You could ask anything of me and I'd break myself trying to make you happy. My heart tells me this is the best and greatest feeling I have ever had. But my mind knows the difference between wanting what you can't have and wanting what you shouldn't want. And I shouldn't want you. All night I've watched you sleeping, watched the moonlight come and go, casting its shadows across your face in black and white. I've never seen anything more beautiful. I think of the life we could have had if things were different, a life where this night is not a singular event, separate from everything else that's real, but every night. But things aren't different, and I can't look at you without feeling like I've tricked you into loving me. The truth no one is willing to say out loud is that no one has a shot against Valentine but me. I can get close to him like no one else can. I can pretend I want to join him and he'll believe me, up until that last moment where I end it all, one way or another. I have something of Sebastian's; I can track him to where my father's hiding, and that's what I'm going to do. So I lied to you last night. I said I just wanted one night with you. But I want every night with you. And that's why I have to slip out of your window now, like a coward. Because if I had to tell you this to your face, I couldn't make myself go. I don't blame you if you hate me, I wish you would. As long as I can still dream, I will dream of you. _Jace

It’s impossible,” he snapped. “Why?” “Because I’m Sebastian, Lord St. Vincent. I can’t be celibate. Everyone knows that.

What's wrong, little sis? You look upset." She could barely catch her breath. "Cracked...my...nail polish slapping your... worthless face. See?" She showed him her finger - just one of them. "Cute" He snorted.

He taught me there's a place on a man's back where, if you sink a blade in, you can pierce his heart and sever his spine, all at once,' Sebastian had said. 'I guess we got the same birthday present that year, big brother,' Jace thought. 'Didn't we?

Be kind to dragons, for thou art crunchy when toasted and taste good with ketchup. (Sebastian)

The breaking of a wave cannot explain the whole sea.

I've never felt so... light.

I think everything that happened in Idris-Valentine, Max, Hodge, even Sebastian-I kept shoving it all down, trying to forget, but it's catching up with me. I... I'll get help. I'll get better. I promise." "You promise." "I swear on the Angel." He ducked his head down, kissed her cheek. "The hell with that. I swear on us.

I could point out that that's not a dress, that's underwear, but I doubt it would be in my best interest." "Need I remind you," said Sebastian, "That that is my sister?" "Most brother's would be delighted to see such a clean-cut gentleman as myself squiring their sister's about town.

Magnus's eyes gleamed. "He seems to like you. I saw him going for your hand out there like a squirrel diving for a peanut.

Music is an agreeable harmony for the honor of God and the permissible delights of the soul.

I don’t like keeping her in the dark,” Jace said. “We’ll tell her in a week. What difference does a week make?” Jace gave him a look. “Two weeks ago you were dead.” “Well, I wasn’t suggesting two weeks,” said Sebastian. “That would be insane.

(Jace) "Is there anything special you want to see? Paris? Budapest? The Leaning Tower of Pisa?" Only if it falls on Sebastian's head, she thought.

I need Jace,” said Sebastian. “But in his heart, he’s not like me. But you are.

Despite the heat in her face, it felt as if cold needles of ice were running up and down her veins. "What are you doing here?" He drew back slightly, looking disappointed. "That isn't really an answer to my question, you know. I was expecting more of a "Hallelujah Chorus.' I mean, it's not every day your boyfriend comes back from the dead." "I already knew you weren't dead." She spoke through numb lips. "I saw you in the library. With--" "Colonel Mustard?" "Sebastian.

If it could only be like this always – always summer, always alone, the fruit always ripe and Aloysius in a good temper...

Kill me, little sister. Kill me and you kill Jace, too.

(Sebastian) "See, there you go. You're always looking at me like that." "Like what?" "Like I burn down animal shelters for fun and light my cigarettes with orphans.

Your Bracelet," she said. "Acheronta movebo.' It doesn't mean 'Thus always to tyrants.' That's 'sic semper tyrannis.' This is from Virgil. 'Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.' If I cannot move Heaven, I will raise Hell.

That thing that looks like me but isn't? He'll burn down the world if Sebastian wants him to, and laugh while he's doing it. That's what you're saving, Clary. That. Don't you understand? I'd rather be dead—

Well, hello there, Mother,” Sebastian said in a voice like silk. “Surprised to see me?

She turned to look at Sebastian, lying on the bed. He was shirtless, and even in the dim light the old whip weals across his back were visible. She had always been fascinated by Shadowhunters but had never thought she would find one whose personality she could stand for more than five minutes, until Sebastian.

I don't care what you think. You're not my brother," Clary said. "You're a murderer." "I really don't see how those things cancel each other out," said Sebastian.

For a moment she just stared, wondering if there were another girl staying here, or if Sebastian had taken to cross-dressing.

No. Absolutely not.' 'Simon,' she said. 'It’s a perfectly fine plan.' 'The plan where you follow Jace and Sebastian off to some unknown dimensional pocket and we use these rings to communicate so those of us over here in the regular dimension of Earth can track you down? That plan?' 'Yes.' 'No,' he said. 'No, it isn’t.' Clary sat back. 'You don’t just get to say no.' 'This plan involves me! I get to say no! No.' 'Simon—' Simon patted the seat beside him as if someone were sitting there. 'Let me introduce you to my good friend No.

You have a dark heart in you, Valentine’s daughter,” he said. “You just won’t admit it. And if you want Jace, you had better accept it. Because he belongs to me now.

I am with you. I'm not going anywhere." "Is there anything special you want to see? Paris? Budapest? The Leaning Tower of Pisa?" Only if it falls on Sebastian's head, she thought. "Can we travel to Idris? I mean, I guess, can the apartment travel there?" "It can't get past the wards." His hand traced a path down her cheek. "You know,I really missed you." "You mean you haven't been going on romantic dates with Sebastian while you've been away from me?" "I tried", Jace said, "but no matter how liquored up you get him , he just won't put out.

Maybe he's lonely. Sebastian can't be the greatest company." "We don't know that. He could be absolutely fantastic at Scrabble," said Magnus.

We are one now, little brother, you and I," Sebastian said. "We are one.

Yes, My Lord.

I don’t actually care if you break my heart, Sebastian. I went into this knowing it could happen and I gave it to you anyway. But I don’t want you to break your own. You have so much space in your heart for your church, but does it have space for you?

And that is why I hate dogs." " . . . woof." --Sebastian and Ceiel

You never cared that I was your sister before.” “Didn’t I?” His black eyes flicked up and down her. “Our father’s dead,” he said. “There are no other relatives. You and I, we are the last. The last of the Morgensterns. You are the only one left whose blood runs in my veins, too. You are my last chance.

Sebastian: YOU'RE Ragnor Fell the warlock? Magnus: Well, I'm certainly not Ragnor Fell the exotic dancer

It’s me,” he said, and cleared his throat. “I could understand if you didn’t believe me, but I swear on the Angel, Iz, it’s me.” Alec said nothing, but his grip on Jace’s hand tightened. “You don’t need to swear,” he said, and with his free hand touched the parabatai rune near his collarbone. “I know. I can feel it. I don’t feel like I’m missing a part of me anymore.” “I felt it too.” Jace took a ragged breath. “Something missing. I felt it, even with Sebastian, but I didn’t know what it was I was missing. But it was you. My parabatai.

Sebastian sighed an exaggerated sigh and swung the door shut. Clary stared at Jace. "What the f-" "Language, Fray." Jace's eyes danced. "Relax.

He does what he wants, and I don’t ask,” he said. “He could bring a six-foot tall pink rabbit in a bikini back home with him if he wanted to. It’s not my business. But if you’re asking me if I’ve brought any girls back here, the answer is no. I don’t want anybody but you.

Haters and bullies are always cowards, you know. They like to pick on little guys.

I know. I was there. I saw the great void in your soul, and you saw mine.

If it's your wish, I will follow you everywhere even if your throne crumbles, and your shiny crown turns to rust. Even if the bodies pile up endlessly, above the bottomless pile of corpses. Beside you as you lie softly down I will be until I hear the word "Check mate!"- Sebastian

Well, I'm certainly not Ragnor Fell the exotic dancer.

Jace: 'I don't like keeping her in the dark.' Sebastian: 'We'll tell her in a week. What difference does a week make?' Jace: 'Two weeks ago you were dead.' Sebastian: 'Well, I wasn't suggesting twoweeks. That would be insane.

Because it strikes me there is something greater than judgement. I think it is called mercy.

His eyes were green.

As she looked, the smoke puffing out of the chimney stopped curling upward and began to take on the shape of a wavering black question mark. Sebastian laughed. "I think that means, Who's there?" Clary pulled her coat closer around her. "It looks like something out of a fairy tale." "Are you cold?" Sebastian put his arm around her. Immediately the smoke curling from the chimney stopped forming itself into question marks and began puffing out in the shape of lopsided hearts.

Why did you?” Clary asked. “Why did I what?” “Help me back there.” “You’re my sister.” She swallowed. In the morning light, Sebastian’s face had some color in it. There were faint burns along his neck where demon ichor had splashed him. “You never cared that I was your sister before.” “Didn’t I?” His black eyes flicked up and down her. “Our father’s dead,” he said. “There are no other relatives. You and I, we are the last. The last of the Morgensterns. You are the only one left whose blood runs in my veins, too. You are my last chance.

I play the notes as they are written, but it is God who makes the music.

I’m here because I know the sadness inside you. I know what it feels like to wake in the morning, lost and lonely and aching for someone to be there with me. (Sebastian)

After all the world is indeed beautiful and if we were any other creature than man we might be continuously happy in it.

Humans don’t mind hardship, in fact they thrive on it; what they mind is not feeling necessary. Modern society has perfected the art of making people not feel necessary. It's time for that to end.

You asked me who I belong to. I belong to you.

You have ruthlessness in your bones and ice in your heart, Clarissa. Don't tell me any differently.

I rarely dislike people for things they can't change, they usually give me sufficient cause to dislike them for other reasons.

Having a Coke with You is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for yoghurt partly because of the fluorescent orange tulips around the birches partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people and statuary it is hard to believe when I’m with you that there can be anything as still as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it in the warm New York 4 o’clock light we are drifting back and forth between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just paint you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them I look at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it’s in the Frick which thank heavens you haven’t gone to yet so we can go together the first time and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism just as at home I never think of the Nude Descending a Staircase or at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn’t pick the rider as carefully as the horse it seems they were all cheated of some marvelous experience which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I am telling you about it

I do so wish my breasts would stop staring at your eyes.

So you speak French?" Isabelle sighed. "I wish I spoke another language. But Hodge never thought we needed to learn anything but ancient Greek and Latin, and nobody speaks those." "I also speak Russian and Italian. And some Romanian," Sebastian said with a modest smile. "I could teach you some phrases-" "Romanian? That's impressive," said Jace. "Not many people speak it." "Do you?" Sebastian asked with interest. "Not really," Jace said with a smile so disarming Simon knew he was lying. "My Romanian is pretty much limited to useful phrases like, 'Are these snakes poisonous?' and 'But you look much too young to be a police officer.

I was a princess made of ashes; there is nothing left of me to burn. Now it's time for a queen to rise.

Ah, Evie,” she heard him say softly, “I must have a heart, after all…because right now it aches like the devil.” “Only your heart?” she asked ingenuously, making him laugh. He lowered her to the bed, his eyes sparkling wickedly. “Also a few other things,” he conceded. “And as my wife, it’s your duty to ease all my aches.

I've missed you, Sebastian." "Have you, love?" He unfastened the buttons of her robe, the light eyes glittering with heat as her skin was revealed. "What part did you miss the most?" "Your mind," she said, and smiled at his expression. "I was hoping for a far more depraved answer than that." "Your mind is depraved," she told him solemnly. He gave a husky laugh. "True.

We are not defined by the things we do in order to survive. We do not apologize for them,” she says quietly, eyes never leaving mine. “Maybe they have broken you, but you are a sharper weapon because of it. And it is time to strike.

Damn it. I don't know how to be a husband, or father. But since your standards in both areas seem to be relatively low, I may have half a chance at pleasing you.

Self-pity is the most destructive of all narcotics.

Let your heart travel lightly. Because what you bring with you becomes part of the landscape.

Actually," Clary said, "I think he stayed because of me." Jace's glaze flicked up to hers with a flash of gold. "Because of you? Hoping for another hot date, was he?" Clary felt herself flush. "No. And our date wasn't hot. In fact, it wasn't even a date. Anyway, that's not the point. When he came into the Hall, he kept trying to get me to go outside with him so we could talk. He wanted something from me. I just don't know what." "Or maybe he just wanted you," Jace said. Seeing Clary's expression, he added, "Not that way. I mean maybe he wanted to bring you to Valentine.

I am just...One hell of a butler.

Sometimes you must lose everything to gain it again, and the regaining is the sweeter for the pain of loss.

I learned to play the instruments of war," he said, "and paint in blood.

If I can not move heaven I shall raise Hell.

What do you think it would have been like if Valentine had brought you up along with me? Would you have loved me?" Clary was very glad she had put her cup down, because if she hadn't, she would have dropped it. Sebastian was looking at her not with any shyness or the sort of natural awkwardness that might be attendant on such a bizarre question, but as if she were a curious, foreign life-form. "Well," she said. "You're my brother. I would have loved you. I would have...had to.

Lost something?’ Yes, my mind.

You're sitting on my bed," he said. "Did yo think I was under it?

The function of music is to liberate in the soul those feelings which normally we keep locked up in the heart.

I'd never chosen to be alone, but that was the way things had turned out, and I'd grown used to it.

Miss Butterworth and the Mad Baron,” Sebastian said approvingly. “Excellent choice.” “You have read this?” Alexei asked. “It’s not as good as Miss Davenport and the Dark Marquis, of course, but worlds better than Miss Sainsbury and the Mysterious Colonel.” Harry found himself rendered speechless. “I’m reading Miss Truesdale and the Silent Gentleman right now.” “Silent?” Harry echoed. “There is a noticeable lack of dialogue,” Sebastian confirmed.

If I decide to be an idiot, then I’ll be an idiot on my own accord.

Inhale and hold the evening in your lungs.

Are you all right?” he asked Olivia. His heart was still racing with terror that she’d been hurt. “I heard a woman scream.” “Ah, that would have been me,” Sebastian said. Harry looked down on his cousin, face frozen in disbelief. “You made that noise?” “It hurt,” Sebastian bit off. Harry fought not to laugh. “You scream like a leettle girl.

Heroes save worlds," Clary said. "They don't destroy them.

She managed a smile. "You're kind of pushy, you know." He shrugged. "I have a fetish for damsels in distress." "Don't be sexist." "Not at all. My services are also available to gentlemen in distress. It's an equal opportunity fetish," he said, and with a flourish, offered his arm again.

Still I pulled her into a hug, because I knew she let me off the hook on purpose and yeah, I'm a guy and I love my mom. So shoot me. I'm man enough to hug her without feeling like a mama's boy.

I don't share my body heat indiscriminately.

Slowly his resistance ebbed. She felt the change in his body, the relaxing of tension, his shoulders curving around her as if he could draw her into himself. Murmuring her name, he brought her hand to his face and nuzzled ardently into her palm, his lips brushing the warm circlet of her gold wedding band. “My love is upon you,” he whispered…and she knew then that she had won.

Don't think for one minute that you are any less worthy of love and peace and harmony just because of all the hate spewed by human devils. Because that is what those haters are, you know, devils!

Suddenly for no earthly reason I felt immensely sorry for him and longed to say something real, something with wings and a heart, but the birds I wanted settled on my shoulders and head only later when I was alone and not in need of words.

human beings need three basic things in order to be content: they need to feel competent at what they do; they need to feel authentic in their lives; and they need to feel connected to others. These values are considered "intrinsic" to human happiness and far outweigh "extrinsic" values such as beauty, money and status.

Depression - that limp word for the storm of black panic and half-demented malfunction - had over the years worked itself out in Charlotte's life in a curious pattern. Its onset was often imperceptible: like an assiduous housekeeper locking up a rambling mansion, it noiselessly went about and turned off, one by one, the mind's thousand small accesses to pleasure.

But Jace", Clary said. "Valentine taught him more than just fighting. He taught him languages, and how to play the piano" "That was Jocelyn's influence." Sebastian said her name unwillingly, as if he hated the sound of it. "She thought Valentine ought to be able to talk about books, art, music...not just killing things. He passed that on to Jace." A wrought iron blue gate rose to their left. Sebastian ducked under it and beckoned Clary to follow him. She didn't have to duck but went after him, her hands stuffed into her pockets. "What about you?" she asked. He held up his hands. They were unmistakably her mother's hands - dexterous, long-fingered, meant for holding a brush or a pen. "I learned to play the instruments of war, " he said, "and paint in blood. I am not like Jace.

Each Javelin round costs $80,000, and the idea that it's fired by a guy who doesn't make that in a year at a guy who doesn't make that in a lifetime is somehow so outrageous it almost makes the war seem winnable.

London was one of the few Institutes that hadn't emptied yet. Apparently Sebastian and his forces tried to attack. They were rebuffed by some kind of protection spell, something even the Council didn't know about. Something that warned the Shadowhunters what was coming and led them to safety.' 'A ghost,' Magnus said. A smile hovered around his mouth. 'A spirit, sworn to protect the place. She's been there for a hundred and thirty years.' 'She?' Jocelyn said, leaning back against a dusty wall. 'A ghost? Really? What was her name?' 'You would recognize her last name, if I told it to you, but she wouldn't like that.' Magnus's gaze was faraway. 'I hope this means she's found peace.

The Army might screw you and your girlfriend might dump you and the enemy might kill you, but the shared commitment to safeguard one another’s lives is unnegotiable and only deepens with time. The willingness to die for another person is a form of love that even religions fail to inspire, and the experience of it changes a person profoundly.

Marijuana enhances our mind in a way that enables us to take a different perspective from 'high up', to see and evaluate our own lives and the lives of others in a privileged way. Maybe this euphoric and elevating feeling of the ability to step outside the box and to look at life’s patterns from this high perspective is the inspiration behind the slang term “high” itself.

If you’re not doing okay, you should tell me," Jace said. "We’re all under stress, but we have to keep it together as much as we-" Alec whirled on him. There was disbelief in his eyes. “Doing okay? How would you be doing?” he demanded. “How would you be doing if it were Clary that Sebastian had taken? If it were her we were going to rescue, not knowing if she was dead or alive? How would you be doing?” Jace felt as if Alec had slapped him. He also felt as though he deserved it. It took him several tries before he could get out the next words. “I-I would be in pieces.” Alec got to his feet. He was outlined against the bruise-colored sky, the glow of the broken moons reflecting off the ground; Jace could see every facet of his expression, everything he had been keeping pent up. He thought of the way Alec had killed the faerie knight in the court; cold and quick and merciless. None of that was like Alec. And yet Jace had not paused to think about it, to think what drove that coldness: the hurt, the anger, the fear. “This,” Alec said, gesturing toward himself. “This is me in pieces.

Having a Coke with You is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for yoghurt partly because of the fluorescent orange tulips around the birches partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people and statuary it is hard to believe when I’m with you that there can be anything as still as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it in the warm New York 4 o’clock light we are drifting back and forth between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just paint you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them I look at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it’s in the Frick which thank heavens you haven’t gone to yet so we can go together the first time and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism just as at home I never think of the Nude Descending a Staircase or at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn’t pick the rider as carefully as the horse it seems they were all cheated of some marvelous experience which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I am telling you about it.