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Well, you know, your mom gets like this sometimes, Simon said. Like when she breathes in or out.

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
Simon
Breathe
Mom
Gets
Wells
Well
Sometimes
Like
Breathes

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One must always be careful of books.
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My boyfriend always says that if it weren't for him I'd probably get rid of my apartment and live nowhere, and he's right.
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What is Aldous capable of? Aldous is two thousands years old. He's capable of anything. Aldous Nix is two thousands years old? So, I've heard. He doesn't invite me to his birthday parties.
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So you’re suggesting we take the train up to York, meet a ninety-year-old man, leap on him, and yank out his hair? I’m sure the Clave will be ecstatic.” “They’ll just say you’re mad,” said Jessamine. “They already think it, so what’s the difference, really?
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But it was Valentine. I saw him. In fact, he had the Sword with him when he came down to the cells and taunted me through the bars. It was like a bad movie, except he didn't actually twirl his mustache. - Jace Wayland
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Clary made fun of him about his new look but, then, Clary found everything about Simon's love life borderline hilarious.
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Take off your shirt. Jace raised his eyebrows. I'm not going to attack you, she said impatiently. I can take the sight of your naked chest without swooning. Are you sure? he asked, obediently sliding the shirt off his shoulders. Because viewing my naked chest has caused many women to seriously injure themselves stampeding to get to
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But maybe you never really had someone, she thought now. Maybe, no matter how much you loved them, they could slip through your fingers like water, and there was nothing you could do about it.
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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.
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Magnus began to be truly alarmed. Will's voice would have shaken, betraying that his cruelty had been part of his playacting, but his son's laugh was that of someone genuinely delighted by the chaos erupting all around him
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Hey, said Jace. who was sitting on an overturned speaker, looking at his cellphone, do you want to see a photo of Alec and Magnus in Berlin? Not really, said Simon. Magnus is wearing lederhosen. And yet, still no.
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One more thing, Jace said. Is there a holy place around here? “Good idea. If you're going to take on a lair of vampires by yourself, you'd better pray first.
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You couldn't change the past. You could only go forward
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And now I need you to do for me what I cannot do for myself. For you to be my eyes when I do not have them. For you to be my hands when I cannot use my own. For you to be my heart when mine is done beating.
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What you're blaming yourself for is being who you are. And that's no one's fault and nothing you can change.
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Crying wouldn't help anything now.
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I don't want tea, said Clary, with muffled force. I want to find my mother. And then I want to find out who took her in the first place, and I want to kill them. Unfortunately, said Hodge, we're all out of bitter revenge at the moment, so it's either tea or nothing.
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Magnus gazed dreamily in his direction. You should leave him here. I could hang hats on him and things.
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I dislike boats, Ragnor observed, looking around. I get vilely seasick. The turning green joke was too easy. Magnus was not going to stoop to make it.
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A lot of people feel like urban fantasy is a shortcut that gets you around world-building, because it's set in the real world. But it doesn't really work that way, as I found out. You have to come up with just as consistent an internal cosmology and magic system as you would if you were writing high fantasy.
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