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It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, but it was all there was.
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
Nearly
Wasn
Enough
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A patient, methodical sort of madman. The worst kind.
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I love round tables. They suit me so much better than a square.
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Gold to airy thinness beat.
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There's plenty of sense in nonsense sometimes, if you wish to look for it.
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I am not the one of us who has no heart.
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We live and breathe words.
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Filters are for cigarrettes and coffee, Simon muttered under his breath as they went inside. Two things I could use right now, incidentally.
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He has fought many battles with us (Jace) By which you mean one battle muttered Simon. Two if you count the one I was a rat
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Another vampire pushed her way through the crowd to stand at his side—a pretty blue-haired Asian girl in a silver foil skirt. Clary wondered if there were any ugly vampires, or maybe any fat ones. Maybe they didn't make vampires out of ugly people. Or maybe ugly people just didn't want to live forever.
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You cannot reduce the situation to worm jokes, Will. This is Gabriel and Gideon’s father we’re discussing.” “We’re not just discussing him we’re chasing him through an ornamental sculpture garden because he’s turned into a worm.
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Like letting spiders live because they eat mosquitoes, Clary thought. So they're good enough to let live, good enough to make your food for you, good enough to flirt with-but not really good enough? I mean, not as good as people.
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Hey guys! Wish you were here, except not really. We're having fun. Check it out-the pyramids! -Alec and Magnus
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Have a little faith in my magic fingers
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Oh, come on, Clary said. You're a vampire, not Spider-Man.
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Hearts are breakable, Isabelle said. And I think even when you heal, you're never what you were before.
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I wouldn't change it, Simon said. I wouldn't give up loving you. Not for anything. You know what Raphael told me? That I didn't know how to be a good vampire, that vampires accept that they're dead. But as long as I remember what it was like to love you, I'll always feel like I'm alive.
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Are you threatening to kidnap me? If you want to look at it that way, Jace said, yes.
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The witchlight made his skin paler, his eyes more intently blue. They were the color of the water in the North Atlantic, where the ice drifted on its blue-black surface like the snow clinging to the dark glass pane of a window.
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Tess?” A soft voice at the door she looked up and saw Will there, silhouetted in the light from the corridor.
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Will’s hand looked brown and sunburnt by contrast, their fingers dovetailed together like piano keys.
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