Jems Quotes

He pulled the Carstairs family ring from his finger and held it out to Will. "Take it."
Will let his eyes drift down toward it, and then up to Jem's face. A dozen awful things he could say, or do, went through his mind. One did not slough off a persona so quickly, he had found. He had pretended to be cruel for so many years that the pretense was still what he reached for first, as a man might absently turn his carriage toward the home he had lived in for all his life, despite the fact that he had recently moved. "You wish to marry me now?" he said, at last. ~ Cassandra Clare

Jem?" he said. 'It is you, James?'
'Who else?' Jem's voice. ~ Cassandra Clare

Well, your father and I decided it was time I came to stay with you for a while." "For a while" in Maycomb meant anything from three days to thirty years. Jem and I exchanged glances. "Jem's ~ Harper Lee

He would look so young. They were both so young. Tessa knew it was unusual to marry at seventeen and eighteen, but they were racing a clock.
The clock of Jem's life, before it wound down. ~ Cassandra Clare

Do not think I do not know that Cecily wants you to return home with her. And do not think I do not know that you remain for Jem's sake."
"And yours," he said before he could stop himself. ~ Cassandra Clare

Will began to straighten up, to turn away from the bed. And as he did, he felt something wrap tightly around his wrist. He glanced down and saw Jem's hand braceleting his own. For a moment he was too shocked to do anything but stare.
"I am not dead yet, Will," Jem said in a soft voice, thin but as strong as wire. "What did Magnus mean by asking you if I knew you were in love with Tessa? ~ Cassandra Clare

Though Will was saying earlier," Tessa added, "that heroes all come to bad ends, and he could not imagine why anyone would want to be one, anyway."
"Ah." Jem's hand squeezed hers briefly, and then let it go. "Well, Will is looking at it from the hero's viewpoint, isn't he? But as for the rest of us, it's an easy answer."
"Is it?"
"Of course." His voice was almost a whisper now. "Heroes endure because we need them. Not for their own sakes. If Will ... ~ Cassandra Clare

Jessamine flushed. "Ugh! Charlotte, Will's being vexing." "And the sun has come up in the east," said Jem to no one in particular ... "And the sun comes up in the WEST," said Will, who had apparently heard Jem's earlier comment. ~ Cassandra Clare

Jem's not quite thirteen ... no, he's already thirteen - I can't remember. Anyway, it'll come before county court. ~ Harper Lee

Don't you oh well me,sir," Miss Maudie replied, recognizing Jem's fatalistic noises, "you are not old enough to appreciate what I said. ~ Harper Lee

Jem's knees gave out, and he sank to the trunk at the foot of his bed, still playing. He played Will breathing the name Cecily, and he played himself watching the glint of his own ring on Tessa's hand on the train from York, knowing it was all a charade, knowing, too, that he wished that it wasn't. He played the sorrow in Tessa's eyes when she had come into the music room after Will had told her she would never have children. Unforgivable, that, what a thing to do, and yet Jem had forgiven him. Love was forgiveness, he had always believed that, and the things that Will did, he did out of some bottomless well of pain. Jem did not know the source of that pain, but he knew it existed and was real, knew it as he knew of the inevitability of his own death, knew it as he knew that he had fallen in love with Tessa Gray and that there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it. ~ Cassandra Clare

Magnus took a deep breath and spoke gently. Will. You asked me for my wisdom, as someone who has lived many lifetimes and buried many loves. I can tell you that the end of a life is the sum of the love that was lived in it, that whatever you think you have sworn, being here at the end of Jem's life is not what is important. It was being here for every other moment. Since you met him, you have never left him and never not loved him. That is what matters. ~ Cassandra Clare

An old campaigner, he did not speak until we were on the sidewalk. "What's up?" "Jem's got the look-arounds," an affliction Calpurnia said all boys caught at his age. ~ Harper Lee

He turned out the light and went into Jem's room. He would be there all night, and he would be there when Jem waked up in the morning. ~ Harper Lee

They were all there, squatted in the little open glade - Faith and Una, Jerry and Carl, Jem and Walter, Nan and Di, and Mary Vance. They had been having a special celebration, for it would be Jem's last evening in Rainbow Valley. On the morrow he would leave for Charlottetown to attend Queen's Academy. Their charmed circle would be broken; and, in spite of the jollity of their little festival, there was a hint of sorrow in every gay young heart. "See - there ~ L.M. Montgomery

Will bit at his lip. This was the last time Jem, as Jem, might ever touch him. The sharp memory went through him like a knife - of years of Jem's light tap on his shoulder, his hand reaching to help Will up when he fell, Jem holding him back when he was furious, Will's own hands on Jem's thin shoulders as Jem coughed blood into his shirt. Listen to me. I am leaving, but I am living. I will not be gone from you entirely, Will. When you fight now, I will be still by you. When you walk in the world, I will be the light at your side, the ground steady under your feet, the force that drives the sword in your hand. We are bound, beyond the oath. The Marks did not change that. The oath did not change that. It merely gave words to something that existed already. ~ Cassandra Clare

I should have known what you would do," Jem said in a low voice. "I always know what you will do. I should have known you would put your hands into the fire."

"And I should have known you would throw that packet away," said Will, without rancor. "It was - it was a madly noble thing to do. I understand why you did it."

"I was thinking of Tessa." Jem drew his knees up and rested his chin on them, then laughed softly. "Madly noble. Isn't that meant to be your area of expertise? Suddenly I am the one who does ridiculous things and you tell me to stop?"

"God," said Will. "When did we change places?"

The firelight played over Jem's face and hair as he shook his head. "It is a very strange thing, to be in love," he said. "It changes you."

Will looked down at Jem, and what he felt, more than jealousy, more than anything else, was a wistful desire to commiserate with his best friend, to speak of the feelings he held in his heart. For were they not the same feelings? Did they not love the same way, the same person? But, "I wish you wouldn't risk yourself," was all he said.

Jem stood up. "I have always wished that about you."

Will raised his eyes, so drowsy with sleep and the tiredness that came with healing runes that he could see Jem only as a haloed figure of light. "Are you going?"

"Yes, to sleep." Jem touched his fingers lightly to Will's healing hands. "Let yourself rest, Will. ~ Cassandra Clare

I am nothing if not gracious," Will said. His eyes searched Jem's face, that face as familiar to him as his own. "And determined. You will not leave me. Not while I live. ~ Cassandra Clare

Half one thing and half another," Tessa said. "Like me. But you know you're human." Jem's expression softened. "As are you. In all the ways that matter. ~ Cassandra Clare

Well, in the first place, you stopped to gimme a chance to tell you my side of it- you just lit right into me. When Jem an' I fuss Atticus doesn't ever listen to just Jem's side of it, he hears mine too ~ Harper Lee

Jem's face showed brief indecision on the ethics of withholding his own dime, but his innate courtesy won and he shifted his dime to his pocket. I did likewise with no qualms. ~ Harper Lee

Jem," he said, "are you responsible for this?"
"Yes sir."
"Why'd you do it?"
Jem said softly, "She said you lawed for niggers and trash."
"You did this because she said that?"
Jem's lips moved, but his, "Yes sir," was inaudible.
"Son, I have no doubt that you've been annoyed by your contemporaries about me
lawing for niggers, as you say, but to do something like this to a sick old lady is
inexcusable. I strongly advise you to go down and have a talk with Mrs. Dubose," said
Atticus. "Come straight home afterward."
Jem did not move.
"Go on, I said."
I followed Jem out of the livingroom. "Come back here," Atticus said to me. I came
back.
Atticus picked up the Mobile Press and sat down in the rocking chair Jem had
vacated. For the life of me, I did not understand how he could sit there in cold blood and
read a newspaper when his only son stood an excellent chance of being murdered with
a Confederate Army relic. Of course Jem antagonized me sometimes until I could kill
him, but when it came down to it he was all I had. Atticus did not seem to realize this, or
if he did he didn't care.
I hated him for that, but when you are in trouble you become easily tired: soon I was
hiding in his lap and his arms were around me.
"You're mighty big to be rocked," he said.
"You don't care what happens to him," I said. "You just send him on to get s ~ Harper Lee

He made it very clear that he didn't want me here," she said at last. "That my remaining at the Institute is not the happy chance I thought it was. Not in his view."
"And after I just finished telling you why you should consider him family," Jem said, a bit ruefully. "No wonder you looked as if I'd just told you something awful just happened."
"I'm sorry," Tessa whispered.
"Don't be. It's Will who ought to be sorry." Jem's eyes darkened. "We shall throw him out onto the streets," he proclaimed. "I promise you he'll be gone by morning."
Tessa started and sat upright. "Oh – no, you can't mean that-"
He grinned. "Of course I don't. But you did feel better for a moment there, didn't you? ~ Cassandra Clare

Will. For a moment her heart hesitated. She remembered when Will had died, her agony, the long nights alone, reaching across the bed every morning when she woke up, for years expecting to find him there, and only slowly growing accustomed to the fact that side of the bed would always be empty. The moments when she had found something funny and turned to share the joke with him, only to be shocked anew that he was not there. The worst moments, when, sitting alone at breakfast, she had realized that she had forgotten the precise blue of his eyes or the depth of his laugh; that, like the sound of Jem's violin music, they had faded into the distance where memories are silent. ~ Cassandra Clare

Jem's eyes had widened, and then he'd laughed, a soft laugh. "Did you think I did not know you had a secret?" he'd said. "Did you think I walked into my friendship with you with my eyes shut? I did not know the nature of the burden you carried. But I knew there was a burden." He'd stood up. "I knew you thought yourself poison to all those around you," he'd added. "I knew you thought there to be some corruptive force about you that would break me. I meant to show you that I would not break, that love was not so fragile. Did I do that? ~ Cassandra Clare

While" in Maycomb meant anything from three days to thirty years. Jem and I exchanged glances. "Jem's growing ~ Harper Lee

Jem's fears of never being able to play football were assuaged, he was seldom self-conscious about his injury. His left arm was somewhat shorter than his right; ~ Harper Lee

...and for a moment they were Jem-and-Will again. Will could see Jem, but also through him, to the past. Will remembered the two of them, running through the dark streets of London, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, seraph blades gleaming in their hands; hours in the training room, shoving each other into mud puddles, throwing snowballs at Jessamine from behind an ice fort in the courtyard, asleep like puppies on the rug in front of the fire.
Ave atque vale... Hail and farewell. He had never given much thought to the words before, he had never thought about why they were not just a farewell but also a greeting. Every meeting led to a parting, and so it would, as long as it was mortal. In every meeting there was some of the sorrow of parting, but in every parting there was some joy of the meeting as well.
He would not forget the joy.
...
"Wo men shi sheng si ji jiao," said Will, and he saw Jem's eyes widen, fractionally, and the spark of amusement inside them. "Go in peace, James Carstairs ~ Cassandra Clare

And yet here he was, looking at Jem Carstairs, a boy so fragile-looking that he appeared to be made out of glass, with the hardness of his expression slowly dissolving into tentative uncertainty. "You are not really dying," he said, the oddest tone to his voice, "are you?"
Jem nodded. "So they tell me."
"I am sorry," Will said.
"No", Jem said softly. He drew his jacket aside and took a knife from the belt at his waist. "Don't be ordinary like that. Don't say you're sorry. Say you'll train with me."
He held the knife to Will, hilt first. Charlotte held her breath, afraid to move. She felt as if she were watching something very important happen, though she could not have said what.
Will reached out and took the knife, his eyes never leaving Jem's face. His fingers brushed the other boy's as he took the weapon from him. It was the first time, Charlotte thought that she had ever seen him touch any other person willingly.
"I'll train with you," he said. ~ Cassandra Clare

Until death," Jem replied gently. "Those are the words of the oath. 'Until aught but death part thee and me.' Someday, Will, I will go where none can follow me, and I think it will be sooner rather than later. Have you ever asked yourself why I agreed to be your parabatai?"
"No better offers forthcoming?" Will tried for humor, but his voice cracked like glass.
"I thought you needed me," Jem said. "There is a wall you have built about yourself, Will, and I have never asked you why. But no one should shoulder every burden alone. I thought you would let me inside if I became your parabatai, and then you would have at least someone to lean upon. I did wonder what my death would mean for you. I used to fear it, for your sake. I feared you would be left alone inside that wall. But now ... something has changed. I do not know why. But I know that it is true."
"That what is true?" Will's fingers were still digging into Jem's wrist.
"That the wall is coming down. ~ Cassandra Clare

How old was Jem when he finally learned to tell jokes? You remember how he got the form of jokes but didn't really understand the idea of content?" "What's the difference between a ... a ... a button and a sock?" she mimicked, catching Jem's breathless excitement to a T. "A ... BUFFALO! HAHAHAHAHA! ~ Diana Gabaldon

For a moment the garden, the noise, the stentch of blood and demon, vanished away, and he was alone in a soundless place with only Tessa. He wanted to run to her, wrap her in his arms. Protect her.
But it was Jem's place to do those things, not his. Not his. ~ Cassandra Clare

A forty-foot worm?" Will muttered to Jem as they moved through the Italian garden, their boots - thanks to a pair of Soundless runes - making no noise on the gravel. "Think of the size of the fish we could catch."
Jem's lips twitched. "It's not funny, you know."
"It is a bit. ~ Cassandra Clare

I told you before, Jem, that you would not leave me," Will said, his bloody hand on the hilt of the dagger. " And you are still with me. When I breath, I will think of you, for without you I would have been dead years ago. When I wake up and when I sleep, when I lift up my hands to defend myself or when I lie down to die, you will be with me. You say we are born again. I say there is a river that divides the dead and the living. What I do know is that if we are born again, I will meet you in another life, if there is a river, you will wait on the shores for me to come to you, so we can cross together." Will took a deep breath and let go of the knife. He drew his hand back. The cut on his palm was already healing- the result of the half dozen iratzes on his skin. " You hear that, James Carstairs? We are bound, you and I, over the divide of death, down through whatever generations may come. Forever."
He rose to his feet and looked down at the knife. The knife was Jem's, the blood was his. This spot of ground, whether he could ever find it again, whether he lived to try, would be theirs.
He turned around to walk to Balios, towards Wales and Tessa. He did not look back. ~ Cassandra Clare