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What's all this about yanking poor Magnus and Alec back from their vacation? Isabelle demanded. They have opera tickets!

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
Tickets
Vacation
Opera
Poor
Back
Yanking
Alec
Magnus
Demanded

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She gritted her teeth. She was here with Sebastian, on her way to see a powerful warlock, and mentally she was maundering on about the way Jace smelled.
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Alec had his arms around Magnus and was kissing him, full on the mouth. Magnus, who appeared to be in a state of shock, stood frozen.
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And indeed it was, the arrow still protruding from its wet, grayish skin, humping its body along with incredible speed. A flick of its tail caught the edge of a statue, sending it flying into the dry ornamental pool, where it shattered into dust. “By the Angel, it just crushed Sophocles,” noted Will. “Has no one respect for the classics these days?
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Simon stepped between them. “I’m not going to let you fight with each other.” “And what are you going to do about it if . . . Oh.” Jace's gaze trailed up to Simon’s forehead, and he grinned reluctantly. “ So basically you’re threatening to turn me into something you can sprinkle on popcorn if I don’t do what you say?
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Memories did one no good, not when one knew the truth in the present
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Where is your angel now?
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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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I don't think she doesn't believe she can die. I think, just like you always did, she believes there are things worth dying for.
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Someday, Magnus said, looking at the crumpled royal person at his feet, I must write my memoirs.
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Will loved to gallop.
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She had never asked herself whether it cost him any effort. Any effort to stand between Will and the world, protecting each one of them from the other.
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Did you just kiss me? Will inquired. Magnus made a slip-second decision. No. I thought- On occasion the aftereffects of the painkilling spells can result in hallucinations of the most bizarre sort. Oh, Will said. How peculiar.
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Creating characters is like throwing together ingredients for a recipe. I take characteristics I like and dislike in real people I know, or know of, and use them to embellish and define characters.
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He flushed, the colour dark against his pale skin. 'I mean. Tessa Gray, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?' Jem.
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i've never asked him but i'm sure he has a fairly stringent policy about random teenagers lurking in his strubbery
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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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How'd you get Magnus to let Jace leave? Traded him for Alec, Clary said.
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Do you really wish to disobey me, Marbas? Do you wish to anger my father?
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We live and breathe words. It was books that kept me from taking my own life after I thought I could never love anyone, never be loved again. It was books that made me feel that perhaps I was not completely alone. They could be honest with me, and I with them.
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But it was mortality that made them what they were, the flame that blazed brighter for it's flickering
Cassandra Clare