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Lily Collins|Vogue Magazine (2013)

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Decisions are the endless uncertainties of life that we’ll not know if they’re right until the very end, so do the best you can and hope its right.“

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please, please
remember me.

"You know, when someone prefers their own brother over you, it isn’t a confidence booster. I thought maybe once she realized it would never work out with Jace, she’d give up and come back to me."

Valentine looked steadily at his son. “A cause for rejoicing,” he said in a low, contemplative voice, “I would have thought. Yesterday you were an orphan, Jonathan. And now a father, a mother, a sister, you never knew you had.”
“It isn’t possible,” said Jace again. “Clary isn’t my sister. If she were…”
“Then what?” Valentine said. Jace did not reply, but his sick look of nauseous horror was enough for Clary. Stumbling a little, she came around the table and knelt beside his chair, reaching for his hand.
"Jace—"
He jerked away from her, his fingers knotting in the sodden tablecloth. “Don’t.” Hatred for Valentine burned in her throat like unshed tears. He had held back, and by not saying what he knew—that she was his daughter—made her complicit in his silence. And now, having dropped the truth on them with the weight of a crushing boulder, he sat back to watch the results with a cool consideration. How could Jace not see how hateful he was?
"Tell me it’s not true," Jace said, staring at the tablecloth.
Clary swallowed against the burning in her throat. "I can’t do that."

"You really want to know what else it was my mom said about you?" he asked. She shook her head. He didn’t seem to notice. “She said you’d break my heart,” he told her, and left. The door closed behind him with a decided click, and Clary was alone.

"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart.” -
Stephen Crane

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