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His hands slipped from his throat, and he crashed to the ground like a tree falling. Oh, dear, said Pangborn, gazing at the fallen body of his comrade with fastidious distaste. How unpleasant.
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
Dear
Slipped
Tree
Comrade
Fall
Gazing
Hands
Unpleasant
Body
Throat
Like
Fallen
Fastidious
Falling
Crashed
Ground
Distaste
More quotes by Cassandra Clare
It’s fascinating. You know all these words, and they’re all English, but when you string them together into sentences, they just don’t make any sense.
Cassandra Clare
Please don’t do this—don’t do this to me. If anything happened to you—” He looked at her with surprise. There was already a red stain on the white bandages that wrapped his chest, where his movements had pulled his wound open. “I…” “What?” “I’m not used to you loving me,” he said.
Cassandra Clare
No one blames her. That never matters, said Alec. Not when you blame yourself.
Cassandra Clare
So you're not going to speak tonight, Tessa said. At all. Not unless you instruct me to, said Will. This evening sounds as if it might be better than I thought.
Cassandra Clare
Please tell me you did not bring me out here so you could tell me a very boring story about your sister.
Cassandra Clare
He bent down to her their mouths met again, and the shock of sensation was so strong, so overpowering, that she shut her eyes against it as if she could hide in the darkness. He murmured and gathered her against him.
Cassandra Clare
A sort of good-bye without saying good-bye, he said. It is a reference to a passage in the Bible. 'And Mizpah, for he said, the Lord watch between me and thee when we are absent one from another.
Cassandra Clare
Now that you know the truth, you can never go back.
Cassandra Clare
Do you have a lot of other profound thoughts like that? Blood is blood? A toaster is a toaster? A Gelatinous Cube is a Gelatinous Cube?
Cassandra Clare
It's Simon, he's missing. Ahh. said Magnus delicately Missing what exactly? Missing! Jace repeated As in gone, absent, notable for his lack of presence, disappeared
Cassandra Clare
Magnus sighed. Alexander, I've been alive for hundreds of years. I've been with men, been with women - with faeries and warlocks and vampires, and even a djinn or two. He looked sideways at Maryse, who looked mildly horrified. Too much information?
Cassandra Clare
He does what he wants, and I don’t ask,” he said. “He could bring a six-foot tall pink rabbit in a bikini back home with him if he wanted to. It’s not my business. But if you’re asking me if I’ve brought any girls back here, the answer is no. I don’t want anybody but you.
Cassandra Clare
How strange to have the power to literally transform yourself into other people, and yet be so unable to put yourself in their place.
Cassandra Clare
Just like an alley in New York -like every alley in the world, apparently- it smelled like cat pee.
Cassandra Clare
And I would do it again. I love you, Jace Wayland-Herondale-Lightwood-whatever you want to call yourself. I don't care. I love you and I will always love you, and pretending it could be any other ways is just a waste of time.
Cassandra Clare
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.
Cassandra Clare
Bloodthirsty little beasts. Never trust a duck.- William Herondale
Cassandra Clare
Is he dead? he inquired. He looks dead. No, snapped Maryse. He's not dead. Have you checked? I could kick him if you want.
Cassandra Clare
This was a voice that drew out memories stretched thin by years of recollection, like paper unfolded and refolded too many times. A voice that brought back, like a wave, the memory of another time on this bridge, a night so long ago, everything black and silver and the river rushing away under her feet.
Cassandra Clare
Magnus had learned to be careful about giving his memories with his heart. When people died, it felt like all the pieces of yourself you had given to them went as well. It took so long, building yourself back up until you were whole again, and you were never entirely the same.
Cassandra Clare
