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Hail and Farewell, my brother.

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
Hail
Farewell
Brother

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And next time you're planning to injure yourself to get me attention, just remember that a little sweet talk works wonders.
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It's a coffee cup. She could hear the irritation in her own voice. I know it's a coffee cup. I can't wait till you draw something really complicated, like the Brooklyn Bridge or a lobster. You'll probably send me a singing telegram.
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They both believed in her even when she didn’t believe in herself.
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I have a feeling you're right, Sherwin.' 'Simon. My name is Simon.
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His steady gaze held hers. His blue eyes were very dark, uniquely so. She had known people before with blue eyes, but they had always been light blue. Will's were the color of the sky just on the edge of night.
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Your father, Luke said, what did he say to you when you saw him? What did he promise you? Oh, you know. The usual. A lifetime's supply of Knicks tickets.
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Sarcasm is the last refuge of the imaginatively bankrupt.
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They landed at Simon's feet. Take your clothes and go! Isabelle shouted.
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If you're texting Magnus to say 'I think u r kewl,' I'm going to kill you. Who's Magnus? Max inquired. He's a warlock, said Alec. A sexy, sexy warlock, Isabelle told Max, ignoring Alec's look of total fury. But warlocks are bad, protested Max, looking baffled. Exactly, said Isabelle.
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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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Words were weapons, his father had taught him that, and he'd wanted to hurt Clary more than he'd ever wanted to hurt any girl. In fact, he wasn't sure he had ever wanted to hurt a girl before. Usually he just wanted them, and then he wanted them to leave him alone.
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Maybe that was why she couldn't cry, she realized, staring dry-eyed at the ceiling. Because what was the point in crying when there was no one there to comfort you? And what was worse, when you couldn't even comfort yourself?
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Lawful good to lawful evil! said Simon, pleased. He's quoting Dungeons and Dragons, said Clary. Ignore him.
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I'm the one who's always been there for you... not him!
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I care about you, Simon said. I always cared about you.
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So, technically, Simon said, even though Jace isn't actually related to you, you have kissed your brother.
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Because that was what you did with family when you'd been worried about them, you grabbed them and held on to them and told them how much they'd pissed you off, and it was okay, because no matter how angry you got, they still belonged to you.
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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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You know,” Cecily said, “you really didn’t have to throw that man through the window.
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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.
Cassandra Clare