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That's your truck parked up by the factory isn't it? Magnus pointed. It's awfully butch for a bookseller.
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
Factory
Pointed
Truck
Bookseller
Factories
Parked
Booksellers
Butch
Awfully
Magnus
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The melody rolled over her, as cool and sweet as water, as hopeful and lovely as sunrise.
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There's nothing wild about me. I'm a solid middle-aged man. Except that once a month you turn into a wolf and go tearing around slaughtering things, Clary said. It could be worse, Luke said. Men my age have been known to purchase expensive sports cars and sleep with supermodels.
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Well, I hate to tell you this, she said, but your friend is an asshole. He's not my friend, said Simon. And I couldn't agree with you more, actually. -Maia & Simon about Jace, pg.49-
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khalepa ta kala, greek. It means 'beauty is harsh'.
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I shall see you on Blackfriars Bridge, Tessa.
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Wasn't it? Is loyalty still a commendable quality when it is misdirected?
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Grief makes you feel alone, but you're not. I know you don't believe in-in religion-the same way I do, but you can believe you're surrounded by people who love you, can't you?
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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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Your life is yours to live as you choose.
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I want to kiss you one more time before I die.
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All things tend toward entropy. The whole universe is moving outward, the stars pulling away from one another, God knows what falling through the cracks between them.
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He was still stroking the inside of her wrist, his touch doing odd delicious things to her skin and nerves.
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Aren't you, uh... Clary searched for the right word. Reproducing?
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From the first time I saw you, I've belonged to you completely. I still do. If you want me. -Jace
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You cannot save every fallen bird, said Woolsey. One will do, said Magnus.
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Simon watched a kelpie skip past, carrying a glass of blue fluid, and raised an eyebrow. “It’s not like Magnus’s party,” Isabelle reassured him. “Everything here ought to be safe to drink.” “Ought to be?” Aline look worried.
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