He can touch your soul. And there is a difference between having your heart break and having your soul shatter.
Of course he loves me. I’m his sister.” “Blood isn’t love,” said Magnus, and his voice was bitter.
When you love someone, you don't have a choice. Love takes your choices away. - Clary Fray
There was beauty in the idea of freedom, but it was an illusion. Every human heart was chained by love.
She leaned forward and caught at his hand, pressing it between her own. The touch was like white fire through his veins. He could not feel her skin only the cloth of her gloves, and yet it did not matter. 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.
Now very much against her will, she thought of the way Jace had looked at her then, the blaze of faith in his eyes, his belief in her. He had always thought she was strong. He had showed it in everything he did, in every look and every touch. Simon had faith in her too, yet when he'd held her, it had been as if she were something fragile, something made of delicate glass. But Jace had held her with all the strength he had, never wondering if she could take it--he'd known she was as strong has he was.