“At the moment, he is in shock," said Magnus. "He has believed one thing for five years, and now he has realized that all this time he has been looking at the world through a faulty mechanism - that all the things he sacrificed in the name of what he thought was good and noble have been a waste, and that he has only hurt what he he loved.""Good God," said Woolsey. "Are you quite sure you've helped him?”

“I've always been happy with you," he said. "But I never thought I deserved it.""And now you do?""And now the feeling's gone," he said. "All I know is that I love you and for the first time, that's good enough.”

“But you are not,” Magnus said. “He is not dead, Will. He lives because you let him go. He would have stayed with you and died, if you had asked it, but you loved him enough to prefer that he live, even if that life is separate from yours. And that above all things proves that you are not Sydney Carton, Will, that yours is not the kind of love that can be redeemed only through destruction. It is what I saw in you, what I have always seen in you, what made me want to help you. That you are not despairing. That you have in you an infinite capacity for joy.” He put one gloved hand under Will’s chin and lifted Will’s face. There were not many people Will had to raise his head to look in the eye, but Magnus was one. “Bright star,” Magnus said, and his eyes were thoughtful, as if he were remembering something, or someone. “Those of you who are mortal, you burn so fiercely. And you fiercer than most, Will. I will not ever forget you.”

“Will and Tessa were in the carriage now, and their driver was snapping the reins. 'Do you think there’s a chance for him?''A chance for who?''Will Herondale. To be happy.'Woolsey sighed gustily and put down his glass. 'Is there a chance for you to be happy if he isn’t?'Magnus said nothing.'Are you in love with him?' Woolsey asked—all curiosity, no jealousy. Magnus wondered what it was like to have a heart like that, or rather to have no heart at all.'No,' Magnus said. 'I have wondered that, but no. It is something else. I feel that I owe him. I have heard it said that when you save a life, you are responsible for that life. I feel I am responsible for that boy. If he never finds happiness, I will feel I have failed him. If he cannot have that girl he loves, I will feel I have failed him. If I cannot keep his parabatai by him, I will feel I failed him.”

“Alec," Magnus said. He put a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder; Alec was standing still, staring angrily at the floor. "Are you okay?"Alec looked at him. "Who are you again?"Magnus gave a little gasp; he looked — for the first time Simon could remember — actually unnerved. It lasted only a moment, but it was there. "Alexander," he said."Too soon to joke about the happy memory thing, I take it," Alec said.”

“Magnus got to his feet. “I do believe that's my cue to leave as well,” he said. Clary noticed he was avoiding looking at Alec. “I'd say it's been nice meeting you all, but, in fact, it hasn't. It's been quite awkward, and frankly, the next time I see a single one of you will be far too soon.”

“Wear that scarf," he said, pointing to a blue cashmere scarf hanging on a peg. "It matches your eyes."Alec looked at it. Suddenly he was filled with hate - for the scarf, for Magnus, and most of all for himself. "Don't tell me," he said. "The scarf's a hundred years old, and it was given to you by Queen Victoria right before she died, for special services to the Crown or something."Magnus sat up. "What's gotten into you?"Alec stared at him. "Am I the newest thing in this apartment?""I think that honor goes to Chairman Meow. He's only two.""I said newest, not youngest," Alec snapped.”