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I've heard the word 'fear'. I simply choose to believe it doesn't apply to me.
Cassandra Clare
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Cassandra Clare
Age: 51
Born: 1973
Born: July 31
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Film Producer
Journalist
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Teheran
Judith Rumelt
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Jace
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Fear
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More quotes by Cassandra Clare
It is always better to live the truth than to live a lie. And that lie would have kept him alone forever. He may have had nearly nothing for 5 years, but now he can have everything. A boy who looks like that... Magnus.
Cassandra Clare
“ Turned you gay?” She sounded incredulous. “ Alec, you didn’ t tell me gay?” She sounded incredulous. “ Alec, you didn’ t tell me that.” “ I hope you told him you were bitten by a gay spider,” said Simon.
Cassandra Clare
I swear that woman had a previous career as a death-hunter selling tragic ballads down around the Seven Dials, said Will. And I do wish she wouldn't sing about poisoning just after we've eaten.
Cassandra Clare
Jace laughed, that soft rich sound Clary loved so much. I'm warning you, that jacket is sexy. The Institute could go up in sexy, sexy flames.
Cassandra Clare
Oh, I'll trust you, the boy told him carelessly. It hardly matters. We are all betrayed sooner or later—all betrayed, or traitors. I see that a flair for the dramatic runs in the blood, Magnus said under his breath.
Cassandra Clare
Isabelle was holding an umbrella. It was clear plastic, decorated with decals of colorful flowers. It was one of the girliest things Simon had ever seen, and he didn’t blame Alec for ducking out from under it and taking his chances with the rain.
Cassandra Clare
You can keep it a secret.... But secrets have their own weight, and it can be a very heavy one.
Cassandra Clare
What I do know is that if we are born again, I will meet you in another life, and if there is a river, you will wait on the shores for me to come to you, so that we can cross together.
Cassandra Clare
You might want to lie down, Magnus advised. I find that it helps when the crushing sense of horrible realization sets in.
Cassandra Clare
Now that you know the truth, you can never go back.
Cassandra Clare
Creating characters is like throwing together ingredients for a recipe. I take characteristics I like and dislike in real people I know, or know of, and use them to embellish and define characters.
Cassandra Clare
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.
Cassandra Clare
He had to think he was Michael Wayland’s son, or the Lightwoods would not have protected him as they did. It was Michael they owed a debt to, not me. It was on Michael’s account that they loved him, not mine.” “Maybe they loved him on his own account,” said Clary.
Cassandra Clare
What is one person's pleasure is another's poison.
Cassandra Clare
Alec had his arms around Magnus and was kissing him, full on the mouth. Magnus, who appeared to be in a state of shock, stood frozen.
Cassandra Clare
What you're blaming yourself for is being who you are. And that's no one's fault and nothing you can change.
Cassandra Clare
I do not understand how you humans can walk in shoes that are that tall.” “Its my motto,” said Isabelle, with a sultry smile. “Nothing less than seven inches.
Cassandra Clare
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.
Cassandra Clare
But you hardley even know himshe said.He could be a serial killer I did have that thought.I checked the apartment out,but if his got an ice cooler full of arms in it,I havent seen it yet.Anyway he seems pretty since.
Cassandra Clare
I have important business to get to. I plan to sulk all afternoon, followed, perhaps, by an evening of Byronic brooding and a nighttime of dissipation.
Cassandra Clare