Alastair Carstairs Quotes

“You must stop this," he said. "You will make yourself unworthy by considering yourself unworthy. We become what we are afraid we will be.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Iron

“Sona looked slightly horrified. “Cordelia has a tendency to throw herself into every situation headlong,” she said to Tessa and Will. “I’m sure you understand.”
“Oh, we do,” said Will. “We’re always speaking very sternly to our children about that very thing. ‘If you don’t throw yourself into situations headlong, James and Lucie, you can expect bread and water for supper again.’  ”
Alastair choked on a laugh. Sona stared at Will as if he were a lizard with feathers.”
― 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

“How nice for you to be related to such an important sort of demon,” said Alastair dryly.
“If it actually cared that James was related to an ‘important’ demon, it should have said something to me, too,” said Lucie. “I am his sister. I do not appreciate being overlooked.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“You look ill,” Matthew observed. “Is it my dancing? Is it me personally?”
“Perhaps I’m nervous,” she said. “Lucie did say you didn’t like many people.”
Matthew gave a sharp, startled laugh, before schooling his face back into a look of lazy amusement. “Did she? Lucie’s a chatterbox.”
“But not a liar,” she said.
“Well, fear not. I do not dislike you. I hardly know you,” said Matthew. “I do know your brother. He made my life miserable at school, and Christopher’s, and James’s.”
“Alastair and I are very different,” Cordelia said. She didn’t want to say more than that. It felt disloyal to Alastair. “I like Oscar Wilde, for instance, and he does not.”
The corner of Matthew’s mouth curled up. “I see you go directly for the soft underbelly, Cordelia Carstairs. Have you really read Oscar’s work?”
“Just Dorian Gray,” Cordelia confessed. “It gave me nightmares.”
“I should like to have a portrait in the attic,” Matthew mused, “that would show all my sins, while I stayed young and beautiful. And not only for sinning purposes—imagine being able to try out new fashions on it. I could paint the portrait’s hair blue and see how it looks.”
“You don’t need a portrait. You are young and beautiful,” Cordelia pointed out.
“Men are not beautiful. Men are handsome,” objected Matthew.
“Thomas is handsome. You are beautiful,” said Cordelia, feeling the imp of the perverse stealing over her. Matthew was looking stubborn. “James is beautiful too,” she added.
“He was a very unprepossessing child,” said Matthew. “Scowly, and he hadn’t grown into his nose.”
“He’s grown into everything now,” Cordelia said.
Matthew laughed, again as if he was surprised to be doing it. “That was a very shocking observation, Cordelia Carstairs. I am shocked.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“A demon lunged for Alastair: Cordelia brought Cortana down in a great curving arc, severing its head.
Alastair looked peevish. “Really,” he said. “I could have done that on my own.”
Cordelia considered killing Alastair, but there was no time.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“Will glanced over at Cordelia and smiled. “We could ask for no lovelier girl to be his wife.”
Alastair looked as if he wished to edge away. Cordelia didn’t blame him. “Thank you, Mr. Herondale,” she said. “I hope to live up to your expectations.”
Tessa looked surprised. “Why would you ever worry about that?”
“Cordelia worries,” Alastair said unexpectedly, “because of the idiots who mutter about our father, and our family. She should not let them bother her.”
Tessa laid a gentle hand on Cordelia’s shoulder. “The cruel will always spread rumors,” she said. “And others who take pleasure in that cruelty will believe them and spread them. But I believe that in the end, truth wins out. Besides,” she added with a smile, “the most interesting women are always the most whispered about.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“Contrary to what your beloved poets say, unrequited love doesn’t last forever. And being treated badly by someone doesn’t make you love them more.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Iron

“I hear you have come to London to be parabatai with our Lucie,” said Cecily. She looked nearly as young as Tessa, though since she wasn’t an immortal warlock, one wondered how she managed it. “I am pleased—it is high time more girls became parabatai. It has been a state monopolized by men for far too long.”
“Well, the first parabatai were male,” Will pointed out, in a manner that made Cordelia wonder if Cecily had once found him insufferable, as she found Alastair.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“We're all of us alone," he said. "In the end.”
― Cassandra Clare, Cirenworth Hall, Devonshire

“Charles had climbed on a bench and was calling out that he had something to say, creating a racket that quickly got the attention of the room. Everyone looked immensely surprised, including Tessa and Will. Sona frowned, clearly thinking Charles was very rude. She didn’t know the half of it, Cordelia thought darkly.
“Let me be the first to raise a glass to the happy couple!” said Charles, doing just that. “To James Herondale and Cordelia Carstairs. I wish to add personally that James, my brother’s parabatai, has always been like a younger brother to me.”
“A younger brother he accused of vandalizing greenhouses across our fair nation,” muttered Will.
“As for Cordelia Carstairs—how to describe her?” Charles went on.
“Especially when one has not bothered to get to know her at all,” murmured James.
“She is both beautiful and fair,” said Charles, leaving Cordelia to wonder what the difference was, “as well as being brave. I am sure she will make James as happy as my lovely Grace makes me.” He smiled at Grace, who stood quietly near him, her face a mask. “That’s right. I am formally announcing my intention to wed Grace Blackthorn. You will all be invited, of course.”
Cordelia glanced over at Alastair; he was expressionless, but his hands, jammed into his pockets, were fists. James had narrowed his eyes.
Charles went on merrily. “And lastly, my thanks go out to the folk of the Enclave, who supported my actions as acting Consul through our recent troubles. I am young to have borne so much responsibility, but what could I say when duty called? Only this. I am honored by the trust of my mother, the love of my bride-to-be, and the belief of my people—”
“Thank you, Charles!” James had appeared at Charles’s side and done something rather ingenious with his feet that caused the bench Charles had been standing on to tip over. He caught Charles around the shoulder as he slid to the floor, clapping him on the back. Cordelia doubted most people in the room had noticed anything amiss. “What an excellent speech!”
Magnus Bane, looking fiendishly amused, snapped his fingers. The loops of golden ribbons dangling from the chandeliers formed the shapes of soaring herons while “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” began to play in ghostly fashion on the unmanned piano. James hustled Charles away from the bench he had clambered onto and into a crowd of well-wishers. The room, as a whole, seemed relieved.
“We have raised a fine son, my darling,” Will said, kissing Tessa on the cheek.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“We become what we are afraid we will be, Layla.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“I know," he said, "but sometimes we leave people to protect ourselves, don't we? Not because we don't want to be with them.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

“Because I never wanted you to know!' Alastair burst out. 'Because I wanted you to have a childhood, a thing I never had. I wanted you to be able to love and respect your father as I never could. Every time he made a mess, who do you think had to clean it up? Who told you Father was ill or sleeping when he was drunk? Who went out and fetched him when he passed out in a gin palace and smuggled him in through the back door? Who learned at ten years old to refill the brandy bottles with water each morning so no one would notice the levels had sunk—?' He broke off, breathing hard.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“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've lost your hat, Alastair, said Lucie.
Alastair said, I have lost my sister!”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“The wound is the place where the light enters you”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Thorns

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

“It is a dreadful chore, being the eldest."

-Alastair Carstairs”
― 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

“You're carrying spears?" James demanded.
"I never leave the house without my spears!" cried Alastair, causing them all to stare, even Grace.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“I had my reasons, Alastair.”
“I’m sure you did,” he said, surprising her again. “I wish you’d tell me what they were. Are you in love with Matthew?”
“I don’t know,” Cordelia said. Not that she didn’t have thoughts on the matter, but she didn’t feel like sharing them with Alastair at the moment.
“Are you in love with James, then?”
“Well. We are married.”
“That’s not really an answer,” said Alastair. “I don’t really like James,” he added, “but on the other hand, I also don’t like Matthew very much. So you see, I am torn.”
“Well, this must be very difficult for you,” Cordelia said crossly. “I cannot imagine how you will find it within yourself to go on.”
She made a dismissive gesture, which was spoiled when Alastair burst out laughing. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But those gloves are enormous on you.”
“Humph,” said Cordelia.
“About James—”
“Are we the sort of family that discusses our intimate relationships now?” Cordelia interrupted. “Perhaps you would like to talk about Charles?”
Generally not. Charles seems to be healing up, and beyond him surviving, I have no further interest in what happens to him,” said Alastair. “In fact, there have been a few touch-and-go moments with my caring about whether he survives. He was always demanding that I adjust his pillows. ‘And now the foot pillow, Alastair,” he said in a squeaky voice that, to be fair, sounded nothing like the actual Charles. Alastair was terrible at impressions.
“I wouldn’t mind a foot pillow,” said Cordelia. “It sounds rather nice.”
“You are clearly in an emotional state, so I will ignore your rambling,” said Alastair. “Look, you need not discuss your feelings about James, Matthew, or whatever other harem of men you may have acquired, with me. I merely want to know if you’re all right.”
“No, you want to know if either of them has done something awful to me, so you can chase them around, shouting,” said Cordelia darkly.
“I could do both,” Alastair pointed out.”
― 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