Quote

That's the van? It looks like a rotting banana. This was undeniable - Eric had painted the van a neon shade of yellow, and it was blotched with dings and rust like splotches of decay.

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
Like
Rust
Vans
Eric
Painted
Undeniable
Decay
Neon
Shade
Banana
Yellow
Rotting
Looks
Bananas

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All knowledge hurts.
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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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“ Turned you gay?” She sounded incredulous. “ Alec, you didn’ t tell me gay?” She sounded incredulous. “ Alec, you didn’ t tell me that.” “ I hope you told him you were bitten by a gay spider,” said Simon.
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with his customary crooked smile, “are just too unlikely to dwell upon.
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No fewer than four of my esteemed elders told me I was on no account to ever converse with you, so I vowed that I would know you. My name is Edmund Herondale. May I ask your name? They reffered to you only as 'that disgraceful one-warlock show.
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You can't raise a child to believe the opposite of what you do.
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Jace suggested that the cast of Gilligan's Island could go do something anatomically unlikely with themselves.
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Break a leg up there, and I'll be down here hopefully breaking someone elses.
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I saw you in the library. With—” “ Colonel Mustard?
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It is not the same thing to be good and to be kind.
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Chairmen Meow deserves me every effort.
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My grandfather was a movie producer, and so I grew up on movie sets.
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And in addition to its practical uses, it would seem to work for cosmetic purposes. This powder would make my very skin glimmer for eternity. Henry frowned. Not eternity, he said, but then he brightened. But I could make you up another batch whenever you please! I could shine at will! Magnus grinned at Henry.
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Goodness, Tessa said to the back of his head. If you keep seeing Six-Fingered Nigel like this, he'll expect you to declare your intentions.
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But you hate poetry! Yes, but you make me want to write it.
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You are in love and you think that is all there is in the world. But the world is bigger than you, Will, and may have need of you. You are a Shadowhunter. You serve a greater cause. Your life is not yours to throw away.
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Achilles was murdered with a poisoned arrow, and Jason died alone, killed by his own rotting ship. Such is the fate of heroes.
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what did wards matter when you could create your own reality just by drawing it?
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We're called Shadowhunters. At least, that's what we call ourselves. The Downworlders have less complimentary names for us.
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Time was like the rain, glittering as it fell, changing the world, but something that could also be taken for granted. Until you love a mortal. Then time became gold in a miser's hands, every bright year counted out carefully, infinitely precious, and each one slipping through you fingers. Cassandra Clare: What Really Happened in Peru
Cassandra Clare