Antonio: Will you stay no longer? nor will you not that I go with you?	  Sebastian: By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompense for your love to lay any of them on you.
William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night
cassandra-clare, city-of-glass, shakespeare, stars-shine-darkly, twelfth-night