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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
Awfully
Magnus
Factory
Pointed
Bookseller
Truck
Parked
Factories
Booksellers
Butch

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And I think that you do not understand that sometimes the only choice is between acceptance and madness.
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Her throat ached: adoration, heartbreak, in equal measure. “Kiss me,” she said. “Please.
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And I don’t see how Sebastian can be all that fond of Jace, either. He was horribly jealous of him all his life. He thought Jace was Valentine’s favorite,” added Clary. “Not to mention,” Magnus noted, “that Jace killed him. That would put anyone off.
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Love isn't a weakness.
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Wait. Clary was suddenly nervous. The melted metal-it could be, like, toxic or something. Maia snorted. I'm from New Jersey. I born in toxic sludge.
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Why is it, little Shadowhunter, that your angels are so cold and without mercy? Why do they break that which will not obey them?
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Speaking of hope, did you see that shot Alec got off with his bow? That's my boyfriend.
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The law is hard but it is the law.
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As it turned out, everyone wanted a doughnut. Jace wanted two.
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Other people have shrubbery in their gardens. You have a bottomless pit.
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Her name rang in Will's mind like the chime of a bell he wondered if any other name on earth had such an inescapable resonance to it. She couldn't have been named something awful, could she, like Mildred. He couldn't imagine lying awake at night, staring up at the ceiling while invisible voices whispered 'Mildred' in his ears. But Tessa--
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One must look at the next step on the path ahead, rather than the mountain in the distance, or one would never reach one's goal.
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And you love Sophie. Gideon's mouth tensed. She's a mundane and a servant, said Gabriel. I don't know what you expect to come of it, Gideon. Nothing, Gideon said roughly. I expect nothing. But the fact that you believe I should shows that our family brought us up to believe that we should do right only if some reward was the result
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We don't require luck, said Will, we have a heavenly mandate, after all. With God on your side, what does luck matter?
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She felt as if she bled her regret and loneliness from her very pores, and yet she could not shape those feelings into any sentiment she could imagine her parents could bear reading.
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And what if I'm the one who kills him? My heart is your heart, he said, My hands are your hands.
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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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The Law may be hard but it's the law.
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Has there ever been an Inquisitor who didn't die a horrible death? Simon wondered out loud. It's like being the drummer in Spinal Tap.
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Something inside Clary cracked and broke, and words came pouring out. 'What do you want me to tell you? The truth? The truth is that I love Simon like I should love you, and I wish he was my brother and you weren't, but I can't do anything about that and neither can you!
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