William Herondale Quotes
The best sayings about William Herondale that you can share on Instagram, Pinterest, Facebook and other social networks!
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Perhaps not," said Will, who had ears like a bat's. "But I would make a radiant bride.
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With God on your side, what does luck matter?
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Dear me. Such harsh truths so early in the morning cannot be good for the digestion.
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Let me give you a piece of advice. The handsome young fellow who's trying to rescue you from a hideous fate is never wrong. Not even if he says the sky is purple and made of hedgehogs.
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I have lost everything. Lost everything. Everything. - William Herondale
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They say you cannot love two people equally at once,” she said. “And perhaps for others that is so. But you and Will—you are not like two ordinary people, two people who might have been jealous of each other, or who would have imagined my love for one of them diminished by my love of the other. You merged your souls when you were both children. I could not have loved Will so much if I had not loved you as well. And I could not love you as I do if I had not loved Will as I did.
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It was books that made me feel that perhaps I was not completely alone. They could be honest with me, and I with them.
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You would make a very ugly woman" "I would not. I would be stunning
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Beauty fades, but cooking is eternal.
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I love you so much, so incredibly much," he went on, "and I forget when you're close to me, I forget who you are. I forget that you're Jem's. I'd have to be the worst sort of person to think what I'm thinking right now. But I am thinking it.
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They’re not hideous,” said Tessa. Will blinked at her. “What?” “Gideon and Gabriel,” said Tessa. “They’re really quite good-looking, not hideous at all.” “I spoke,” said Will, in sepulchral tones, “of the pitch-black inner depths of their souls.” Tessa snorted. “And what color do you suppose the inner depths of your soul are, Will Herondale?” “Mauve,” said Will.
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You are not the last dream of my soul. You are the first dream, the only dream I ever was unable to stop myself from dreaming. You are the first dream of my soul, and from that dream I hope will come all other dreams, a lifetime’s worth.
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And what colour do you suppose the inner depths of your soul are, Will Herondale?' 'Mauve,' said Will.
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One must always be careful of books.
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I did not get my Spaghetti-O's, I got spaghetti. I want the press to know this.
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Only the very weak-minded refuse to be influenced by literature and poetry.
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She had never thought about her name much before, but when he said it, it was as if she were hearing it for the first time - the hard T, the caress of the double S, the way it seemed to end on a breath.
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Tessa touched his wrist lightly with her hand. "Be brave," she said. "It's not a duck, is it?
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One must always be careful of books," said Tessa, "and what is inside them, for words have the power to change us.
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Do you often sleep tied to the bed?
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We live and breathe words. It was books that kept me from taking my own life after I thought I could never love anyone, never be loved again. It was books that made me feel that perhaps I was not completely alone. They could be honest with me, and I with them.
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While the Clave disapproves of trespassers, oddly they take an even darker view of beheading and skinning people. They're peculiar that way.
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Will has always been the brighter burning star, the one to catch attention — but Jem is a steady flame, unwavering and honest. He could make you happy.
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Bloodthirsty little beasts. Never trust a duck.- William Herondale
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My name is Herondale," the boy said cheerfully. "William Herondale, but everyone calls me Will. Is this really your room? Not very nice, is it?" He wandered toward the window, pausing to examine the stacks of books on her bedside table, and then the bed itself. He waved a hand at the ropes. "Do you often sleep tied to the bed?
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But you love her.” Will stared at him. “Of course I do,” he said finally. “I had come to think I would never love anyone, but I love her.
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Astriola. That IS demon pox. You had evidence that demon pox existed and you didnt mention it to me! Et tu, Brute!' He rolled up the paper and hit Jem over the head with it.
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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.
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You endure what is unbearable, and you bear it. That is all.
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Concerned about my safety, are you? -William Herondale.
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