The Infernal Devices, written by Cassandra Clare, is one of the most famous works not only in the “romance lovers” part of the bookstagram world but also in the “fantasy lovers” world. If you checked the bookish lists right now, there are chances that this series would be included in almost all the “must read,” “most loved,” “read this ASAP,” and “must be turned into movies” lists.
We recently picked up this series, and we are, to put it simply, speechless, blown out of our minds. Where do we even begin? These books have a good plot, are filled with twists (although we knew what was coming in that first book), and have top-tier romance and chemistry.
Everything is perfect and emotional. But what is amazing, and is rarely seen in the books we read, is the heartwarming friendship between Jem and Will. They are such good boys that it physically hurts us to think about what they endured in the past and would endure in the future.
This also happens to be the first-ever series where we are confused about which side to pick. This book features what we like to call “one girl, two choices,” or what you all might know as a love triangle. So, the fandom is divided into two parts: one wants Will and Tessa to be together, while the other half wants Jem and Tessa to live their HEA.
As for us, we are stuck somewhere in between because we don’t want Will to suffer, but we also don’t want Jem to think Tessa chose Will over him. It’s a hard battle. We don’t want either of them to suffer anymore, but sadly, CC doesn’t care.
When she wrote this, she really was enjoying it. She knew this would destroy the readers, and it actually hurts, so beware, this series isn’t for the soft-hearted. But if you have read this series, then you might want to reminisce!
Here are some of our favorite quotes from The Infernal Devices.
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As long as a tall woman carried herself well, she would forever look regal.
But sometimes, she missed him so much it felt like she’d swallowed broken glass.
She didn’t know what was around her in the strange dark place they asked her to journey to, but she knew the pathway through it.
What kind of monster could possibly hate chocolate?
“One must always be careful of books,” said Tessa, “and what is inside them, for words have the power to change us.”
“Only the very weak-minded refuse to be influenced by literature and poetry,” said Tessa.
There’s plenty of sense in nonsense sometimes if you wish to look for it.
I’ve never seen anyone get so excited over books before. You’d think they were diamonds.
Dreams can be dangerous things.
If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior.
It’s all right to love someone who doesn’t love you back, as long as they’re worth you loving them. As long as they deserve it.
“How did you know just what I’d want to see?” “How could I not?” he said. “When I think of you, and you are not there, I see you in my mind’s eye always with a book in your hand.”
Memories did one no good, not when one knew the truth in the present.
Will was beautiful, but he was not hers; he was not anybody’s.
Something in him was broken, and through that break spilled a blind cruelty, a need to hurt and to push away.
And doing nothing, I find, rarely accomplishes anything.
“I haven’t abandoned hope,” he said. “I just hope for different things than you do, Tessa Gray.”
Each day I must show cruelty to those I have chosen to make my home with, lest they let themselves feel too much affection for me.
If you hold it away from yourself long enough, do you lose it entirely? If no one cares for you at all, do you even really exist?
“You don’t even like poetry,” Tessa said, her voice catching on a half laugh of relief. “No. But you make me want to write it. Does that not count for anything?”
You should see the way he looks at you when he doesn’t think you see. Or looks up when a door opens, and is always disappointed when it isn’t you.
I had always thought one could not be truly lost if one knew one’s own heart. But I fear I may be lost without knowing yours.
“This place has been your home.” “You are home for me now.”
But he would always side with Will. Kindly, but firmly, he put Will above everything else in the world.
There is more to living than not dying.
“So you are dying for love, then.” “Dying a little faster for love. And there are worse things to die for.”
“I cannot ask you to do something that goes against your conscience.” “My conscience,” “You are my conscience. You have ever been, James Carstairs.”
“Jem – Jem is all the better part of myself. I would not expect you to understand. I owe him this.” “Then what am I?” “You are my weakness.”
“I know that he did deplorable things,” she said. “But you should be allowed to mourn him nonetheless. No one can take your grief from you; it belongs to you, and you alone.”
If I held a revolver to your head, James, and pulled the trigger, would it really matter if I did not know that there were no bullets in the chambers?
“You saved my life.” “That is all I ever wanted.”
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.
Men may be stronger, but it is women who endure.
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