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The only way you would have failed, she said, is if you had.

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
Failed
Way
Would

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You cannot buy or drug or dream your way out of pain.
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To draw something is to try to capture it forever.
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I swear that woman had a previous career as a death-hunter selling tragic ballads down around the Seven Dials, said Will. And I do wish she wouldn't sing about poisoning just after we've eaten.
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Having rock-star problems may be the closest I ever get to being an actual rock star.
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How strange to have the power to literally transform yourself into other people, and yet be so unable to put yourself in their place.
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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.
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Henry patted Charlotte’s shoulder anxiously. “Would you like a cool cloth? What can I do to help?” “You could ride up to Yorkshire and chop that old goat’s head off.” Charlotte sounded mutinous. “Won’t that make things rather awkward with the Clave?” asked Henry. “They’re not generally very receptive about, you know, beheadings and things.
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What are you? The voice came from nowhere. It was in the room. It was outside. It was in Magnus's head. A warlock, Magnus answered. And what are you? We are many. Please do not say you are a legion. Someone's taken that. Do you make mirth from mundane scriptures, warlock? Just breaking the ice
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Those of us who do not live forever do not like change perhaps as much as those of you who do.
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He closed his eyes. “I’m so tired, Tess,” he said. “I only wanted pleasant dreams for once.” “That is not the way to get them, Will,” she said softly. “You cannot buy or drug or dream your way out of pain.
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Will looked as if he were being asked to believe in something impossible—snow in summertime, a London winter without rain.
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Fine,” Kyle said. “I’m a werewolf. I’m not part of a pack, but I do have an alliance. Have you heard of the Praetor Lupus?” “I’ve heard of lupus,” said Simon. “Isn’t it a kind of disease?
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Jem drew back from her, looking dazed. By the Angel, he said. Perhaps we do need a chaperon.
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Rule number one of anime, Simon said. He sat propped up against a pile of pillows at the foot of his bed, a bag of potato chips in one hand and the TV remote in the other. He was wearing a black T-shirt that said I BLOGGED YOUR MOM and a pair of jeans that were ripped in one knee. Never screw with a blind monk.
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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.
Cassandra Clare
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I need a bodyguard. Simon eyed him. Have you been watching The Bodyguard? Because I am not going to fall in love with you and carry you around in my burly arms.
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You tried to drink the East River,Magnus said, and Alec saw, as if for the first time, that Magnus's clothes were soaking wet too, sticking to his body like a dark second skin.
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If love is great, then it is worth fighting for.
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Clary, he whispered. There was a thump, and she realized he had fallen to his kees by the side of her bed. She didn't move, but her body tightened. His voice was a whisper. Clary, it's me. It's me.
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Woolsey bites on occasion
Cassandra Clare