Quote

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.

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
Blue
Glass
Like
Color
North
Paler
Eyes
Glasses
Pane
Dark
Snow
Intently
Eye
Skin
Drifted
Skins
Atlantic
Water
Surface
Clinging
Black
Window
Ice
Made

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Let the sky rain potatoes, said a musing voice. Let it thunder to the tune of Greensleeves.
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You're a public menace. You shouldn't be allowed out on your own.
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To be beautiful you had to be willowy and tall. When you were as short as Clary was, just over five feet, you were cute. Not pretty or beautiful, but cute.
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Perhaps, but you would not exist without a woman, would you? However little use you may find us, we are cleverer and more determined and more patient than men. Men may be stronger, but it is women who endure.
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Bitten? You mean you're a- A werewolf, said the girl. Like everyone else here. Except you, and the asshole. And the asshole's sister.
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Magnus had learned to be careful about giving his memories with his heart. When people died, it felt like all the pieces of yourself you had given to them went as well. It took so long, building yourself back up until you were whole again, and you were never entirely the same.
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Magnus did not like to go near the Hotel Dumont if he could help it. It was decrepit and unsettling, it held bad memories, and it also occasionally held his evil former lady love.
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Wo men shi jie bai xiong di-we are more than brothers, Will.
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Your life is yours to live as you choose.
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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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Why, oh why, had Jace picked a fight with a pack of wolves? What had possessed him? Then again, it was Jace. He'd pick a fight with a Mack truck if the urge took him. -Clary, pg.40-
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I think the main thing to remember when writing a novel is to stay true to the characters.
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How can you not understand? He pointed at her books. You read novels. Obviously, I'm here to rescue you. Don't I look like Sir Galahad? He raised his arms dramatically. My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure---
Cassandra Clare
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There is no god, not a god who would create the things I saw
Cassandra Clare
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No one can say that death found in me a willing comrade, or that I went easily.
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Magnus's eyes gleamed. He seems to like you. I saw him going for your hand out there like a squirrel diving for a peanut.
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He was standing leaning against the door frame now he stood up straight. How should I have kissed you? Is there an other way you like it?
Cassandra Clare
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Don't. Clary raised a warning hand. I'm not really in the mood right now. That's got to be the first time a girl's ever said that to me, Jace mused.
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To love is to destroy, to destroy is to love. -Jace Herondale
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Oh, its big enough,” he said patronizingly, “but somehow I was expecting…you know.” He gestured with his hands, indicating something roughly the size of a house cat. “It’s the Mortal Cup, Jace, not the Mortal Toilet Bowl,” said Isabelle. -Jace & Isabelle, pg.349-
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