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For the first time Valentine glanced down at the body of Brother Jeremiah. I did kill him, and the rest of the Silent Brothers as well. I had to. They had something I needed. What? A sense of decency?
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
Time
Rest
Glanced
Sense
Decency
Body
Valentine
Wells
Brothers
Firsts
Silent
Well
Kill
First
Brother
Something
Needed
Jeremiah
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She unwrapped the blanket when she came in my door. You were inside it. She set you down on the floor and you started ranging around, picking things up, pulling my cat's tail—you screamed like a banshee when the cat scratched you, so I asked your mother if you were part banshee. She didn't laugh.
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So it's true. You can walk in sunlight. I thought perhaps it might have worn off. If I feel the urge to burst into flames, I'll let you know.
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The grandeur of the Institute never failed to impress Magnus - the way it towered high and mighty above everything else, timeless and unmoving in its Gothic disapproval of all that was modern and changeable.
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Magnus hoped if he ever went mad like that himself, so mad that he poisoned the very air round him and hurt everyone he came into contact with, that there would be someone ho loved him enough to stop him. To kill him, if it came to that.
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There. She had thanked Sebastian. She waited for a bolt of lightning to shoot out of the clouds and striker her dead. But nothing happened.
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If no one cares for you at all, do you even really exist?
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She'd been impressed by his looks at first--those sharply planed cheekbones and those black, fathomless eyes--but his affable, sympathetic personality grated on her now. She didn't like boys who looked as if they never got mad about anything. In Isabelle's world, rage equaled passion equaled a good time.
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And second, keep in mind that you are a weapon. In theory, when you're done with training, you should be able to kick a hole in a wall or knock out a moose with a single punch. I would never hit a moose, said Clary. They're endangered.
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Look, I asked you here for a reason. Much as I hate to admit it, vampire, we have something in common. Totally awesome hair? Simon suggested.
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Will looking after her, sighed.not for her, he said under his breath, though there was no one to hear him, for me.... And he leaned his head against the cold iron gate.
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Our hearts, they need a mirror, Tessa. We see our better selves in the eyes of those who love us. And there is a beauty that brevity alone provides.” He dropped his gaze, then raised it to hers. “I would give you everything of myself,” he said. “I would give you more in two weeks than most men would give you in a lifetime.
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He was the one she was doing all this for, but sometimes she missed him so much it felt like she swallowed broken glass.
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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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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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He speaks of you only with the greatest pride, Will
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Why does it take girls so long to shower?” he demanded. “Mortal girls, Shadowhunters, female warlocks, you‘re all the same. I‘m not getting any younger waiting out here.” -Magnus to Clary, pg.272-
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He was wearing a look that she found odd and compelling - that amusement that didn’t seem to pass beyond the surface of his features, as he found everything in the world both infinitely funny and infinitely tragic all at the same time.
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Luke moved as silently as fog, while Maryse's heels sounded like gunshots on the marble floor. Clary wondered if Isabelle's propensity for unsuitable footwear was genetic.
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He held her close enough to kiss, close enough to whisper the most important secrets in the world, and he spoke to her as he would have wanted some good angel to speak to his family, to his own shivering young soul, long ago and in a land far away.
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You're staring at me, Simon said. Why are you staring at me? Have I got something on my face?
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