Thomas Lightwood Quotes

“We don’t always love people who deserve it.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“Answer me, James!” Will shouted. “Why have you blocked this door? I demand to know what’s going on!”
“James isn’t here!” Matthew called, moving closer to him. “Go away!”
James looked at Matthew, puzzled. “Really?”
“I heard breaking glass!” Will called.
“I was practicing fighting moves!” Matthew answered.
“In the ballroom?”
“We’re trying to distract Thomas! It’s been a very emotional day!” Matthew shouted back.
“What?” Will’s voice was incredulous.
“Don’t you blame this on me!” Thomas whispered.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“Please recall that I am the pale neurasthenic one and you are the stern heroic one,” Matthew said to James. “It is very tedious when you mix up our roles.”
“So what is my role?” said Christopher.
“Mad inventor, of course,” said Matthew promptly. “And Thomas is the one with a good heart.”
“Lord, I sound dull,” said Thomas.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“James dropped Cordelia’s hands. They were no longer dancing. James turned away from Cordelia without a word and strode across the room toward the newcomers. She stood, frozen in confusion, as James bent to kiss the hand of the stunningly beautiful girl who had just walked into the room. Titters rose on the dance floor. Lucie had stepped back from Matthew, her eyes wide. Alastair and Thomas both turned to look at Cordelia with expressions of surprise.
At any moment, Cordelia knew, her mother would notice that she was drifting in the middle of the dance floor like an abandoned tugboat and charge toward her, and then Cordelia would die. She would die of the humiliation. Cordelia was scanning the room for the nearest exit, ready to flee, when a hand grasped her arm. She was spun around and into an expert grip: a moment later she was dancing again, her feet automatically following her partner’s.
“That’s right.” It was Matthew Fairchild. Fair hair, spicy cologne, a blur of a smile. His hands were gentle as he swept her back into the waltz. “Just—try to smile, and no one will notice anything happened. James and I are practically interchangeable in the public consciousness anyway.”
“James—left,” Cordelia said, in shock.
“I know,” said Matthew. “Very bad form. One should not leave a lady on the dance floor unless something is actually on fire. I’ll have a word.”
“A word,” Cordelia echoed. She was beginning to feel less stunned and more angry. “A word?”
“Several words, if it will make you feel better?”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“Thomas was frowning. “My aunt Tatiana is mad. My father has often said so, that his sister was driven to madness by what happened to her father and her husband. She blames our parents for their deaths.”
“But James has never done anything to her,” said Christopher, his eyebrows knitting together.
“He’s a Herondale,” said Thomas. “That’s enough.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Christopher said. “It is as if one was bitten by a duck and years later one shot a completely different duck and ate it for dinner, and called that revenge.”
“Please do not use metaphors, Christopher,” said Matthew. “It gives me the pip.”
“This is bad enough without mentioning ducks,” said James. He had never fancied ducks since one had bitten him in Hyde Park as a small child.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“I appreciate the scientific rigor with which you’ve approached this project, Anna,” said Christopher, who had gotten jam on his sleeve. “Though I don’t think I could manage to collect that many names and also pursue science. Much too time-consuming.”
Anna laughed. “How many names would you want to collect, then?”
Christopher tilted his head, a brief frown of concentration crossing his face, and did not reply.
“I would only want one,” said Thomas.
Cordelia thought of the delicate tracery of the compass rose on Thomas’s arm, and wondered if he had any special person in mind.
“Too late for me to only have one,” declared Matthew airily. “At least I can hope for several names in a carefully but enthusiastically selected list.”
“Nobody’s ever tried to seduce me at all,” Lucie announced in a brooding fashion. “There’s no need to look at me like that, James. I wouldn’t say yes, but I could immortalize the experience in my novel.”
“It would be a very short novel, before we got hold of the blackguard and killed him,” said James.
There was a chorus of laughter and argument. The afternoon sun was sinking in the sky, its rays catching the jeweled hilts of the knives in Anna’s mantelpiece. They cast shimmering rainbow patterns on the gold-and-green walls. The light illuminated Anna’s shabby-bright flat, making something in Cordelia’s heart ache. It was such a homey place, in a way that her big cold house in Kensington was not.
“What about you, Cordelia?” said Lucie.
“One,” said Cordelia. “That’s everyone’s dream, isn’t it, really? Instead of many who give you little pieces of themselves—one who gives you everything.”
Anna laughed. “Searching for the one is what leads to all the misery in this world,” she said. “Searching for many is what leads to all the fun.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“James eyed Matthew. “Thomas,” he said, in a low voice. “Maybe a healing rune?”
Thomas nodded and approached Matthew cautiously, as one might approach a stray cat on the street. Some time ago James had discovered that healing runes sobered Matthew up: not entirely, but enough.
“Push up your sleeve, then, there’s a good fellow,” Thomas said, seating himself on the arm of Matthew’s chair. “Let’s wake you up and James can tell us whatever mad thing he has planned.”
“It seems somehow blasphemous to use Marks to rid oneself of the effects of alcohol,” Matthew added, as Thomas put his stele away. The Mark in question gleamed, new-made, on Matthew’s wrist. He looked already more clear-eyed, and less as if he were about to fall asleep or be sick.
“I’ve seen you use your stele to part your hair,” said James dryly, as he began to examine the window locks.
“The Angel gave me this hair,” replied Matthew. “It’s one of the Shadowhunters’ gifts. Like the Mortal Sword.”
“Now that is blasphemy,” said Thomas.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“If you were a truly dedicated brother Thomas, you would be at Babara's side,” Anna said. “I would hope that if I collapsed, Christopher would weep inconsolably and be incapable of consuming meat pies.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“Why should we isolate people who are brave enough to try to become like us--who want to help people? Why should we treat them as if they're less than us, until they prove their worthiness or die? I won't do it.”
― Cassandra Clare, Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy

“Perhaps, but Anna was right,” said Cordelia. “We must speak to more Downworlders regardless. There was much talk of Magnus Bane—”
“Ah, Magnus Bane,” said Matthew. “My personal hero.”
“Indeed, you once described him as ‘Oscar Wilde if he had magic powers,’ ” said James.
“Magnus Bane threw a party in Spain I attended,” said Thomas. “It was a little difficult, since I did not know a soul. I got rather drunk.”
Matthew lowered the flask with a grin. “Is that when you got your tattoo?”
“So does that mean you’re close friends with Magnus Bane, Thomas?” said Lucie. “Can you reach out to him for help?”
“He never even made an appearance at the party,” said Thomas.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“We are special, unusual, unique people. That means that we must be bold and proud, but also careful. Don’t think you have so much to prove that it makes you foolish.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Iron

“Just trying to be helpful,” said Thomas.
“I didn’t ask you here for help. You just happened to turn up right after—” Alastair made a gesture apparently intended to encompass demons hiding in stables, and slid Cortana back into its scabbard at his hip. “I asked you here because I wanted to know why you sent me a note calling me stupid.”
“I didn’t,” Thomas began indignantly, and then recalled, with a moment of freezing horror, what he had written in Henry’s laboratory. Dear Alastair, why are you so stupid and so frustrating, and why do I think about you all the time?
Oh no. But how—?
Alastair produced a burnt piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Thomas. Most of the paper had been charred beyond legibility. What was left read:
Dear Alastair,
why are you so stupid
I brush my teeth
don’t tell anyone
—Thomas
“I don’t know why you don’t want anyone to know you brush your teeth,” Alastair added, “but I will, of course, keep this news in the strictest confidence.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“You keep me human, Tom.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“You heard the low, snaky serpent,” said Matthew. “Come away, Tom.”
― Cassandra Clare

“WHAT?" said Thomas, so loudly they all jumped. "Sorry," he said. "I was all prepared to shout and I hadn't got a chance yet.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Iron

“Thomas heard the stamping of hooves of horses, a shout of warning, and the Institute carriage came crashing through the Portal barely remaining on all four of its wheels as it came. Balios and Xanthos looked very pleased with themselves as the carriage spun in midair and landed, with a jarring thud, at the foot of the steps. Magnus Bane was in the driver’s seat, wearing a dramatic white opera scarf and holding the reins in his right hand. He looked even more pleased with himself than the horses.
“I wondered if it was possible to ride a carriage through a Portal,” he said, jumping down from the seat. “As it turns out, it is. Delightful.”
The carriage doors opened, and rather unsteadily, Will, Lucie, and a boy Thomas didn’t know clambered out. Lucie waved at Thomas before leaning against the side of the carriage; she was looking rather green about the gills.
Will went around the carriage to unstrap the luggage, while the unfamiliar boy—tall and slender, with straight black hair and a pretty face—put a hand on Lucie’s shoulder. Which was surprising—it was an intimate gesture, one that would be considered impolite unless the boy and girl in question were friends or relatives, or had an understanding between them. It seemed, however, unlikely that Lucie could have an understanding with someone Thomas had never seen before. He rather bristled at the thought, in an older-brother way—James didn’t seem to be here, so someone had to do the bristling for him.
“I told you it would work!” Will cried in Magnus’s direction. Magnus was busy magicking the unfastened baggage to the top of the steps, blue sparks darting like fireflies from his gloved fingertips. “We should have done that on the way out!”
“You did not say it would work,” Magnus said. “You said, as I recall, ‘By the Angel, he’s going to kill us all.’
“Never,” said Will. “My faith in you is unshakable, Magnus. Which is good,” he added, rocking back and forth a little, “because the rest of me feels quite shaken indeed.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“Several of us are wounded," said Christopher. "Unless we want to explain what happened here, and it seems that would be a bad idea, we should probably apply iratzes." He turned to Thomas. "I will do yours."
"Please don't," said Thomas. Christopher did not always have the best of luck with runes.
"Oh bloody hell, I'll do it," said Alastair, and stomped heavily over to Thomas's side. Thomas watched in what seemed to be shock as Alastair produced a stele and began to draw on the bare skin of his arm where his shirt had been torn.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“How much love people have denied themselves through the ages because they believed they did not deserve it. As if the waste of love is not hte grater tragedy.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“Guilt is one of the most sickening feelings there is,” Alastair said. “Most people will do anything to avoid feeling it. I know I—” He took a deep breath. “One can either refuse to accept it, push it away and blame others, or one can take responsibility. One can bear the unbearable weight.”
He sounded exhausted.
“I have always wanted to bear it with you,” said Thomas quietly.
“Yes,” Alastair said. His eyes were bright with cold. “Raziel knows, perhaps that is the reason I have not become like Tatiana myself. You keep me human, Tom.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“She caught sight of her brother, now in conversation with Thomas Lightwood. The two boys sat casually on a rout-seat together, as if they were exchanging confidences. Even Alastair was doing a better job of charming the influential than she was.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“Alastair sighed. Thomas wondered if he was cold standing about with his sleeves rolled up, but decided not to mention it because Alastair had lean, muscular forearms. And maybe the cold didn’t bother him anyway.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“So your plan is too brood at home by yourself all night? Rather than going to a party with your friends?”
Alastair gave him a sour look. “They’re not my friends.”
“You say that kind of thing often,” Thomas said. “Almost as though if you repeat it enough, it will become true.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest. He was wearing his best black jacket, which strained against the seams at his shoulders. “If you don’t go, I won’t go either. I will stay at home, and mice will nibble on me in my despair.”
Alastair blinked. “There’s no reason for that,” he said. “You’ve got every reason to go—”
“But I won’t,” Thomas said. “I will remain at home, despairing, being nibbled upon by mice. It’s your choice.”
Alastair held up one finger for a moment as though to speak, then let it drop. “Well. Damn you, Lightwood.”
“Alastair?” came a light voice from the parlor. Sona: of course they would have brought her down here, to keep her from having to climb the stairs every day. “Che khabare? Che kesi dame dar ast?” What’s going on? Who was at the door?
Alastair looked darkly at Thomas. “All right,” he said. “I’ll go to your stupid party. But you have to amuse my mother while I get dressed.”
And with that, he turned and stalked upstairs.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“ “A fresh start.” His voice was bitter. “It was never the truth. We were moving to get away from the problems my father had created—from his debts, his drinking. As if he could outrun them. And I—” His eyes were haunted. “I never wanted to be like him, I fought so hard to not be like him. And yet I find myself planning to run away. To do what he would do. Because I’m afraid.”
Thomas kicked the blanket off his lap. The carriage rocked under his feet as he moved to sit on the opposite bench beside Alastair. He wanted to put his hand over Alastair’s but held back. “I have never thought of you as afraid,” he said, “but there is no shame in it. What are you afraid of?”
“Change, I suppose,” said Alastair, a little desperately. Outside, the branches of trees whipped back and forth in the wind. Thomas could hear a dull roaring sound—thunder, he guessed, though it was oddly muffled. “I know that I must change myself. But I don’t know how to do it. There is no instruction manual for becoming a better person.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“What are you afraid of?"
"Change, I suppose.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“In between kisses, Alastair murmured soft words in Persian. "Ey pesar," he whispered, "nik ze hadd mibebari kar-e jamal." His tongue swept Thomas's lower lip; Thomas shuddered, pressed into him, his breath catching with every kiss, every movement of Alastair's body. "Ba conin hosn ze to sabr konam?”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns