Emma And Julian Quotes & Sayings

Emma: Jules, I know you said Diana refused to try to take the Institute, but do you know why...
Jules: No, On the topic of confessions, were you planning on telling the rest of Mark's family why you dumped their brother with no warning?
Emma: You're angry that Mark and I broke up?
Jules: I guess you've dumped two of their brothers, if we're really counting. Who's next? Ty?
Emma: Screw you, Julian Blackthorn. — Cassandra Clare

Emma had been given her own room and so had Julian, but he was hardly ever in it. Drusilla and Octavian were still waking up every night screaming, and Julian had taken to sleeping on the floor of their room, pillow and blanket piled up next to Tavvy's crib. There was no high chair to be had, so Julian sat on the floor opposite the toddler on a food-covered blanket, a plate in one hand and a despairing look on his face. Emma — Cassandra Clare

Sometimes she thought the only things she had faith in were revenge and Julian. — Cassandra Clare

She had already absented herself, I knew, gone to that other place in her mind where Julian was sweet and kind and life was fun, or if it wasn't fun, it was interesting, and wasn't that valuable, didn't that mean something? — Emma Cline

Absolutely. I did it for Alec, Alec did it for me - well, actually, he hated Clary at first, but he came around." "I bet you didn't like Magnus much, either," said Julian, still with the same odd, stiff look on his face. "Maybe not," said Jace, "but I never would have said so." "Because it would have hurt Alec's feelings?" Emma asked. "No," said Jace, "because Magnus would have turned me into a hat rack," and — Cassandra Clare

These pictures are my heart. And if my heart was a canvas, every square inch of it would be painted over with you. — Cassandra Clare

After a long moment, the Countess sat back down. "So," she said. "You ... do love her. I must say, you look peculiarly resigned to it."
He shrugged. "It is not fresh news for me."
"And for Emma?"
"Neither welcomed nor openly acknowledged."
"But acknowledged all the same, you believe."
"Perhaps," he said. "I cannot know. Not anymore."
-Delphinia, Lady Chad and Julian — Meredith Duran

I wish it back," she said in uncharacteristic sharpness. "I don't care to cast blame. I just want it back. It is, after all, my personal property. Not meant for anyone else to read." "Full of juicy secrets, is it?" Julian asked, eyes glinting. "About you? Or about all of us?" "Perhaps I shall have to track down this ghost and claim the journal myself," Rowan said. "Sounds like interesting reading." Emma lifted her chin. "I assure you, you would find it frightfully dull." "Your blush tells a different tale." Julian smirked. — Julie Klassen

He glanced at the screen. It was from Mark.
CAN'T FIND TY.
Julian frowned and thumbed a reply while jogging up the steps after Emma. DID YOU LOOK IN HIS BEDROOM?
There was an ornate knocker on the front door in the shape of a wild-haired, wild-eyed Green Man. Emma lifted it and let it fall as Julian's phone beeped again.
DO YOU TAKE ME FOR A BUFFOON? OF COURSE I DID.
"Jules?" Emma said. "Is everything all right?"
"Buffoon?" he muttered, his fingers flying over the touch pad.
WHAT DOES LIVVY SAY?
"Did you just mutter 'buffoon'? Emma demanded. Julian could hear footsteps approaching from the other side of the door. 'Julian, try to act not weird, okay? — Cassandra Clare

Julian changed; his attention snapped away from Mark, his spine straightening, his voice hardening.
He sounded calm, but Emma, who knew him so well, could hear the ice in his voice. "Emma is my
parabatai," he said. "If you ever speak to her like that again, there will be blood on the floor of the
Sanctuary, and I do not care if they put me to death for it. — Cassandra Clare

You call me afraid?" demanded Mark. "Insult me again and find your blood spilled, girl."
"Mark, this is Emma," Julian said. " Emma Carstairs."
Mark pressed himself farther back into the wall. "Lies," he said. "Lies and dreams. — Cassandra Clare

We are bound together, Emma, bound together - I breathe when you breathe, I bleed when you bleed, I'm yours and you're mine, you've always been mine, and I have always, always belonged to you! — Cassandra Clare

What's put that secret smile on your face?" Phillip asked, a teasing light in his eyes. "Don't tell me Henry was actually pleasant company." "He was," Emma allowed. "Very knowledgeable." Julian said, "What did you do out there all that time - that's what I'd like to know." He leaned back in his chair and watched her face with a knowing smirk. "Lizzie said the two of you were alone out there for quite some time." "Oh?" Phillip asked, clearly surprised. "And what did you find to talk about with our laconic Henry?" "Greek mythology, mostly," Emma said casually, wanting to end any romance rumors before they might begin. "I found it very interesting." "You would," Rowan muttered. — Julie Klassen

She soared above the ground, and he kept her tethered to the earth. Without him she would be lost among the clouds. — Cassandra Clare

You went with Cameron?" Julian said.
Livvy held up a hand. "In Emma's defense, Cameron's annoying, but he's hot." Julian gave her a look. "I mean, if you like guys who look like a redheaded Captain America, which I... don't?"
"Captain America is definitely the most handsome Avenger," said Cristina. "But I like the Hulk. I would like to heal his broken heart."
"We're Nephilim, said Julian. "We're not even supposed to know about the Avengers. Besides," he added, "Iron Man is obviously the best-looking."
--
"I have no idea who the Avengers are," observed Mark, who had finished his strawberries and was eating sugar out of a packet. Ty looked gratified - he had no time for superheroes. — Cassandra Clare

Christina flashed a smile. "I shall ask a million questions of your purply-eyed so that Diana doesn't think about you and Julian or whether you might be at Mr. Rook's."
I'm not sure he's a mister," Emma said, stifling a yawn. "I've never heard anyone call him anything but 'hey, Rook' or sometimes 'that bastard. — Cassandra Clare

The moment I was introduced to my wife, Emma, at a party I thought, here she is - and 20 minutes later I told her she ought to marry me. She thought I was as mad as a rat. She wouldn't even give me her telephone number - and she wrote in her diary: 'A funny little man asked me to marry him.' — Julian Fellowes

Yeah," he said, eyelashes lowering as his gaze traced the movement of her fingers. "It hurt me being away from you. It feels like there's a hook dug in under my ribs, and there's something pulling at the other end. Like I'm tethered to you, no matter the distance. — Cassandra Clare

He knew in the way that she was a part of him, the way her breathing was his breathing, and her dreams were his dreams, and her blood was his blood, and when her heart stopped he knew that his would too, and he would be glad, because he wouldn't want to live one second in a world that didn't have her in it. — Cassandra Clare

Ty braced himself as Julian walked directly up to him, not breaking stride, his jaw set, his blue-green eyes as dark as the deep part of the ocean.
He reached Ty and caught hold of him, pulling him into a fierce hug. He pressed his face down into his little brother's black hair as Ty stood, frozen and astonished at Julian's lack of anger.
"Jules?" he said. "Are you alright?"
Julian's shoulders shook. He held his little brother tighter, as if he could crush Ty into himself, into a place where he'd always be safe. He put his cheek against Ty's curls, squeezing his eyes shut, his voice muffled. "I thought something happened to you," he said. "I thought Johnny Rook might
"
He didn't finish his sentence. Ty put his arms carefully around Julian. He patted his back, gently, with his slender hands. It was the first time Emma had seen Ty comfort his older brother
almost the first time she'd ever actually seen Julian let someone else take care of him. — Cassandra Clare

It was an ocean she lived across from, ran beside everyday, but Julian knew how much it terrified her. She could force herself into it, sick and shaking, but he hated watching her do it, hated watching his strong Emma torn to shreds by the terror of something so primal and nameless she couldn't explain it even to herself.
It made him want to kill things, destroy things to keep her safe. Even though she could keep herself safe. Even though she was the bravest person he knew. — Cassandra Clare

Words are not the only way we communicate, you and I. They never were. — Meredith Duran

I couldn't keep a fish alive," she said. "I kill plants just by looking at them."
"I suspect I would have the same problem," Mark said, eyeing the fish. "It is too bad - I was going to name it Magnus, because it has sparkly scales."
At that, Cristina giggled. Magnus Bane was the High Warlock of Brooklyn, and he had a penchant for glitter.
"I suppose I had better let him go free," Mark said. Before anyone could say anything, he made his way to the railing of the pier and emptied the bag, fish and all, into the sea.
"Does anyone want to tell him that goldfish are freshwater fish and can't survive in the ocean?" said Julian quietly.
"Not really," said Cristina.
"Did he just kill Magnus?" Emma asked, but before Julian could answer, Mark whirled around. — Cassandra Clare

Why all these paintings of you? Because I'm an artist, Emma. These pictures are my heart. And if my heart was a canvas, every square Inch of it would be painted over with you." - Julian Blackthorn — Cassandra Clare

This is my domain. You've got your own hopeless humans in New York."
"One of those hopeless humans is the father of my child," Magnus pointed out.
Magnus had not ever been pregnant, though that would have been interesting, Emma thought. He and Alec Lightwood had an adopted warlock child, named Max, who was a scintillating shade of navy blue.
"And," Magnus added, "the rest of them have all saved the world, at least once."
Malcolm gestured toward Julian and Emma. "I have high hopes for these. — Cassandra Clare

And go the speed limit!" Julian yelled as Mark disappeared around the side of the building.
"It's the sky, Julian," said Emma. "There isn't really a speed limit."
"I know," he said, and smiled. It was the smile Emma loved, the one she felt like was just for her, the one that said that although life often forced him to be serious, Julian wasn't actually serious by nature. — Cassandra Clare

We could - " he started, then stopped, swallowed, and started again. "We could become parabatai."
He said it shyly, half-turning his face away from her, so that the shadows partially hid his expression.
"Then they couldn't separate us," he added. "Not ever."
Emma felt her heart turn over. "Jules, being parabatai is a big deal," she said. "It's - it's forever."
He looked at her, his face open and guileless. There was no trickery in Jules, no darkness. "Aren't we forever?" he asked. — Cassandra Clare

Emma's heart was pounding. She chanced a look up at Julian. For the briefest of moments he looked like someone who'd been staggering through the Mojave Desert, half-dead from the sun, and had seen a glimmer of water up ahead only to have it turn out to be a mirage. "Still no Mark?" Emma said hastily as Cristina reached them. Not that there was a real reason Cristina would know where Mark was; Emma just didn't want her looking at Julian. Not when he looked like that. — Cassandra Clare

But Julian's blood was different. When she saw it she thought of him, shot and crumpling, the way his blood had run like water through her fingers. It was the first time in years that she'd actually thought he might die, that she might lose him. She knew what people said about parabatai, knew that it was meant to be a loss as profound as that of a spouse or a sibling. Emma had lost her parents; she had thought she knew what loss was, was prepared for it. But nothing had prepared her for the feeling that the idea of losing Jules wrenched out of her: that sky would go dark forever, that there would never be solid ground again. — Cassandra Clare

I am so ready to hunt down those tiny adorable creatures and give them what for," said Emma. "SO READY."
"Emma . . ."
"I may even tie bows on their heads."
"We have to interrogate them."
"Can I get a selfie with one of them first?"
"Eat your toast, Emma. — Cassandra Clare

You drive too fast," said Mark.
Emma snorted and checked the strap of Cortana where is fastened across her chest. "You sound like Julian."
"It brought me joy," Mark said, moving to stand beside her. "It was as if I flew with the hunt again, and tasted the blood of the sky."
"Okay, you sound like Julian on drugs," Emma muttered. — Cassandra Clare

Emma swallowed. She was remembering Julian, two years ago, standing in the overlapping circles of fire where the parabatai ritual was performed. The look on his face as they each stepped into the central circle and the fire rose up around them, and he unbuttoned his shirt to let her touch the stele to his skin and carve the rune that would bind them together for their whole lives. She knew if she just reached out now, she could touch it, touch the rune cut into his shoulder, the rune she had put there ... — Cassandra Clare

You're covered in blood too," Cristina murmured to Emma, shrugging off her own jacket. She slung it around Emma's shoulders, covering her bloody tank. She brushed her hands through Emma's hair, looking at her worriedly. "You sure you're not hurt?"
"Julian's blood," Emma whispered, and Cristina made a murmuring noise and pulled Emma into a hug. She patted Emma's back and Emma hung on to her for dear life and decided there and then that if anyone ever tried to hurt Cristina she would grind them to a pulp and make amusing sand castles out of the remains. — Cassandra Clare

What'd he said in the car
he'd meant it. His gaze had been level and direct as he'd spoken. It had been *Julian* talking, her Jules, the one who lived in her bones and her brain and at the base of her spine, the one who was threaded all through her like veins or nerves. — Cassandra Clare

Without having to think about it, I knew Julian and Zav were sitting in the front seats and Sasha was in the back. I could imagine her leaning forward from time to time, asking for a joke to be repeated or pointing out some funny road sign. Trying to campaign for her own existence, before finally giving up and lying back on the seat. Letting their conversation thicken into meaningless noise while she watched the road, the passing orchards. The branches flashing with the silver ties that kept away birds. - — Emma Cline

Sunlight speared into the Sanctuary as Diana opened the doors. Emma felt a flash of gratitude for her tutor as Diana and the two faeries vanished outside. Gratitude for sparing Arthur
and for sparing Julian one more second of pretending her was alright. For Jules was looking at his brother
finally, really looking at him, with no one to see or judge his weakness. — Cassandra Clare

Emma: I tried so hard.
Jules: In the battle? Emma, you did everything you could ...
Emma: Not in the battle. To make you not love me. I tried.
Jules: Is it that awful? Having me love you?
Emma: It was the best thing in the world. And then it was the worst. And I didn't even have a chance ...
Jules: You're going to have to learn to live with it. Even if it horrifies you. Even if it makes you sick. Just like I'm going to have to live with whatever other boyfriend you have, because we are forever no matter how, Emma, no matter what you want to call what we have, we will always be us.
Emma: There won't be any other boyfriends. What you said before, about thinking and obsessing and wanting only one thing. That's how I fel you you.
Jules, say somethin, please...
Jules: Julian. I want you to call me Julian. Only ever that. — Cassandra Clare

I love everything about you, Emma. I love the way I can recognize your footsteps in the hallway outside my room even when I didn't know you were coming. No one else walks or breathes or moves like you do. I love the way you gasp when you're asleep like your dreams have surprised you. I love the way when we stay together on the beach our shadows blend into one person. I love the way you can write on my skin with your fingers and I can understand it better than I could understand someone else shouting in my ear. I didn't want to love you like this. It's the worst idea in the world that I love you like this. But I can't stop. Believe me, I tried. — Cassandra Clare

Emma: What do you want from me, Jules? What do you want me to do?
Jules: What do I want? I want you to know what it's like. To be tortured al the time, night and day, desperately wanting what you know you should never want, what doesn't even want you back. to know how it feels to understand that a decision you made when you were twelve years old means you can never have the one thing that would make you truly happy. I want you to dream about only one thing and want onlny one thing and obsess about only one thing like I do ...
Emma: Julian...
Jules: ... like I do with you! Like I do with you, Emma. I thought you loved me. I don't know how I got that so wrong. — Cassandra Clare

When he entered after her, she saw that he meant to come straight to her, and she raised a hand. "No," she said. "Wait."
His footsteps halted. He had always listened to her, hadn't he? Had always heard her."
-Emma and Julian — Meredith Duran

And that love letter you wrote," Rowan added helpfully. "Signing it with another chap's name." Emma Smallwood's eyes widened, and she turned to look at him, brows high. Henry felt his neck heat. His cravat seemed suddenly far too tight. "That's right," Phillip nodded as the memory returned to him. "Pugsworth, was it not?" Julian grinned at Miss Smallwood, clearly enjoying himself. "Did you really think this Pugsworth fellow in love with you?" Heaven help him, Henry hoped she wouldn't burst into disillusioned tears. Not all these years later. And not over Milton Pugsworth. But Miss Smallwood remained her imperturbable self. "Goodness no," she said. "For all his faults, Mr. Pugsworth spelled exceptionally well and had the neatest hand I ever saw. Your brother, on the other hand, never did learn to spell. And I recognized his sloppy scratchings the moment I saw them." Phillip gave her a long look of amused approval. "Bravo, Emma. — Julie Klassen

Ty, no one could have expected that,' Emma said. 'I mean, Julian said some words, and boom, Hell's tractor beam. — Cassandra Clare

She could understand suddenly why people talked about passion as fire: She felt as if they had caught aflame and were burning like the dry Malibu hills, about to become ashes that would mix together forever. — Cassandra Clare

Emma thought of Julian, sitting here, in this office. Year after year, from the time he was twelve and all scraped elbows and torn jeans. He would sit patiently with pen and ink, writing his letter to the Clave, petitioning them to let his sister Helen come home from Wrangel Island. — Cassandra Clare

Truth is to be found in dreams," the King said, looking down at them. From this angle, Emma could see that the odd splitting of his face ended at his throat, which was ordinary skin. "Tell me, Shadowhunters: You enter a cave. Inside the cave is an egg, lit from within and glowing. You know that it beats with your dreams--not the ones you have during the day, but the ones you half-remember in the morning. It splits open. What emerges?"
"A rose," said Mark. "With thorns."
Christina cut her eyes toward him in surprise, but remained motionless. "An angel," she said. "With bloody hands."
"A knife," said Emma. "Pure and clean."
"Bars," Julian said quietly. "The bars of a prison cell. — Cassandra Clare

Why did you pull the arrow out?" she demanded, pulling her sweater over her head. She had a tank top on under it. She patted his chest and side with the sweater, absorbing as much of the blood as she could.

Jules's breath was coming in harsh pants. "Because when someone - shoots you with an arrow - " he gasped, "your immediate response is not - 'Thanks for the arrow, I think I'll keep it for a while.'"

"Good to know your sense of humor is intact. — Cassandra Clare

He gripped her so tightly she could barely breathe. Then he let go. He did it as if he was forcing himself, as if he were starving and he was putting aside the last piece of food he had. But he did it. — Cassandra Clare

Their closeness wouldn't break, but it would bend and stretch into a new shape. — Cassandra Clare