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Magnus gazed dreamily in his direction. You should leave him here. I could hang hats on him and things.
Cassandra Clare
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Cassandra Clare
Age: 51
Born: 1973
Born: July 31
Author
Film Producer
Journalist
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Teheran
Judith Rumelt
Magnus
Hats
Hang
Direction
Leave
Things
Dreamily
Gazed
Bane
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He speaks of you only with the greatest pride, Will
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Somebody's girlfriend, she said. Somebody's sister, somebody's daughter. All these things I never knew I was before, and I still don't really know what I am.
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The light that burned twice as bright burned half as long.
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I told you to bring me to Alec! Backstabbing Judas.
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She closed her hands around his and shut her eyes, imagining their bed cut free of this strange prison, floating through space or on the surface of the ocean, just the two of them alone.
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Magnus had been alive hundreds of years himself, and yet the simplest things could turn a day into a jewel, and a succession of days into a glittering chain that went on and on. Here was the simplest thing: a pretty girl liked him, and the day shone.
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You might at least believe that I know honor- honor and debt.
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Alec looked at her and shook his head. How do you manage never to get mud on your clothes? Isabelle shrugged philosophically. I'm pure at heart. It repels the dirt.
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I can only assume, said Jace, that mortal emotions amuse you because you have none of your own.
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Max, Jace said. Max, I’m so sorry.
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That the wall is coming down.
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I'll just have them change the entry in the demonology textbook from 'almost extinct' to 'not extinct enough for Alec. He prefers his monsters really, really extinct.' Will that make you happy?
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I wish I could hate you, he said. His voice was light, his mouth curved in an unconcerned half smile, his eyes sick with misery. I want to hate you. I try to hate you. It would be so much easier if I did hate you. Sometimes I do hate you and then I see you and I.
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There is no god, not a god who would create the things I saw
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Love takes your choices away.
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In a closed urban fantasy, the magical world is secret and no one knows about it. In an open urban fantasy, everyone knows about it. So with a closed fantasy, you have to figure out how the world keeps itself secret, and with an open one, you have to figure out how knowledge of magic has altered the world we know.
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Have a little faith in my magic fingers
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She could ask for anything, she thought dizzily, anything--an end to pain or world hunger or disease, or for peace on earth. But then again, perhaps these things weren't in the power of angels to grant, or they would already have been granted. And perhaps people were supposed to find these things for themselves.
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Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death.
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Memories did one no good, not when one knew the truth in the present
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