Quotes About Sacrifice

He caught her by the wrist, brought her hand to his bare chest. Splayed her fingers over his heart. It beat against her palm, like a fist punching its way through his sternum. 'Break my heart,' he said. 'Break it in pieces. I give you permission.

And like lambs to a slaughter we shall follow...

One can give up many things for love, but one should not give up oneself.

Yes, he would have done that for Tessa - died to keep the ones she needed beside her - and so would Jem have done that for him or for Tessa, and so would Tessa, he thought, do that for both of them. It was a near incomprehensible tangle, the three of them, but there was one certainty, and that was that there was no lack of love between them.

Jem--Jem is all the better part of myself. I would not expect you to understand. I owe him this." "Then what am I?" Cecily asked. Will exhaled, too exasperated to check himself. "You are my weakness." "And Tessa is your heart," she said, not angrily, but thoughtfully. "Not a fool, as I told you," she added at his startled expression. I know that you love her.

No more. The yin fen has taken so much from me: my family, the years of my life, the strength in my body, the breath in my lungs. It will not take from me this too: the most precious thing we are given by the Angel. The ability to love. I love Tessa Gray. And I will make sure that she knows it.

He was the one she was doing all this for, but sometimes she missed him so much it felt like she swallowed broken glass.

Break my heart, he said. "Break it in pieces. I give you my permission.

Achilles was murdered with a poisoned arrow, and Jason died alone, killed by his own rotting ship. Such is the fate of heroes.

To love something is to destroy it forever.

He wanted to run to her, wrap her in his arms. Protect her. But it was Jem's place to do those things, not his. Not his." -Will Herondale

I don't think she doesn't believe she can die. I think, just like you always did, she believes there are things worth dying for.

Stop. I don't do you favors, Alec. I do things for you because - well, why do you think I do them?" Something rose up in Alec's throat, cutting off his response. It was always like this when he was with Magnus. It was as if there were a bubble of pain or regret that lived inside his heart, and when he wanted to say something, anything, that seemed meaningful or true, it rose up and choked off his words. "I need to get back to the ship," he said, finally.

I would have given it up--all of it up--to be married to you for a day. A day that would never have come. You are a reminder--a reminder of everything I am losting. The Life I will not have.

James had given his heart to this girl, Magnus thought, and Magnus knew well enough from Edmund and Will what it meant when a Herondale gave his heart away. It was not a gift that could be returned.

Sometimes carrying the burden of an upsetting truth, and hiding it, is actually a gift you give to someone else. You bear that burden, so they don't have to, in a situation where telling them will change nothing.

I don't care about risk to me," he hissed, leaning forward across the table. "I care about what happens to you! Dammit, I'm practically indestructible. Let me go. You stay behind." "Yes," Clary said, "Jace won't find that odd at all. You can just tell him you've always been secretly in love with him and you can't stand being parted.

Blood isn't love

It didn't matter, anyway. There was only one thing she could ask for, in the end, only one real choice. She raised her eyes to the Angel's. "Jace," she said.

Jem cried out with all his remaining strength. You cannot go where I am going! Nor would I want that for you!

Demon pox," said Sophie. "Mr. Lightwood's got it, has had for years, and it'll kill him in a right couple of months if he doesn't get the cure. And Mortmain said he can get it for him." The room exploded in a hubbub. Charlotte raced over to Sophie; Henry called after her; Will leaped from his chair and was dancing in a circle.

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.

Cassandra Clare

Matthew spoke in a low voice. "It would be one thing if James loved her. I would go into the quiet dark like Jem did and never speak of her again. But he doesn't love her.