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I could give you a thiught sheath to put that in,Isabelle offered. I got tons. CERTAINLY NOT, said Simon. Clary shot him an irritated look. Thanks, but I'm not really a thigh sheath kind of girl, -pg. 214
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
Certainly
Irritated
Girl
Thighs
Give
Tons
Look
Simon
Looks
Offered
Giving
Thanks
Sheath
Kind
Shot
Thigh
Really
Shots
Clary
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Demon pox,' said Will with the satisfaction of the truly vindicated.
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With a sigh she reached into her pocket and drew out a small velvet bag, which upended on the table. Two gold rings fell out, landing with a soft clink. Simon looked at them puzzled. You want to get married?
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I have come to understand something about novels, Tessa said. And what is that? They are not true.
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There's plenty of sense in nonsense sometimes, if you wish to look for it.
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I told you to bring me to Alec! Backstabbing Judas.
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I didn't know you were bringing the mundane. His blue eyes flicked uneasily over Simon. That's what I like about you people, said Simon. You always make me feel so welcome.
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I hate to break it to you, but if he's interested in your highly personal areas, he probably isn't interested in your sisters.
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Like letting spiders live because they eat mosquitoes, Clary thought. So they're good enough to let live, good enough to make your food for you, good enough to flirt with-but not really good enough? I mean, not as good as people.
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Admiring yourself?” The Inquisitor’s voice but through his reverie. “You wont look so pretty when the Clave gets through with you.” “You do seem obsessed with my looks.” Jace turned away from the mirror with some relief. “Could it be that all this is because you‘re attracted to me?
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I wish I could hate you, he said. His voice was light, his mouth curved in an unconcerned half smile, his eyes sick with misery. I want to hate you. I try to hate you. It would be so much easier if I did hate you. Sometimes I do hate you and then I see you and I.
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Will gave a short laugh. He was in gear as if he had just come from the practice room, and his hair curled damply against his temples. He was not looking at Tessa, but she had grown used to that. Will hardly ever looked at her unless he had to.
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There was an electric anger in his gaze, and a sort of challenge that made Simon long to hit him with something heavy. Like a pickup truck.
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Clary: Now that I'm in your mind, want to see some mental pictures of Jace? Simon: I heard that and NO... You've seen him naked? Clary: Well not entirely but- Simon: Enough
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