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Mortality, behold, and fear, What a change of flesh is here! Think how many royal bones Sleep within this heap of stones.

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
Stones
Sleep
Within
Heap
Fear
Behold
Change
Mortality
Many
Royal
Think
Bones
Thinking
Flesh

More quotes by Cassandra Clare

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I played it for my bride, and one day you will play for yours.
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I know there are monsters on this earth,' said Tessa. 'You cannot tell me otherwise. I have seen them.
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Love potions? For Will Herondale? T’aint my way to turn down payment, but any man who looks like you has got no need of love potions, and that’s a fact.
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And in addition to its practical uses, it would seem to work for cosmetic purposes. This powder would make my very skin glimmer for eternity. Henry frowned. Not eternity, he said, but then he brightened. But I could make you up another batch whenever you please! I could shine at will! Magnus grinned at Henry.
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She had made the choice for him - in a moment of flight and panic, but she had made it - not realizing that her Jace would rather die than be like this, and that she'd been not so much saving his life as damning him to an existence he would despise.
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When you find a man you wish to marry, Tessa, remember this: You will know what kind of man he is not by the things he says, but by the things he does.
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Don't sulk. For someone with all the grace and coordination of a pregnant wildebeest, you did great.
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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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Yes, she's bleeding to death upstairs, but I thought I'd avoid telling you right away, because I like to draw the suspense out.
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his parabatai rune was bleeding
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Isabella with her whip and boots and knives would chop anyone who tried to pen her up in a tower into pieces, build a bridge out of the remains, and walk carelessly to freedom, her hair looking fabulous the entire time.
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[...] He tasted like snowflakes and wine, like winter and Will and London.
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Max, Jace said. Max, I’m so sorry.
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City of Fallen Angels ended on a cliffhanger. That was equally loved and hated by my readership.
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Will’s hand looked brown and sunburnt by contrast, their fingers dovetailed together like piano keys.
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We are but dust and shadows.
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You are just jealous, Magnus remarked calmly. Because you do not have the soul of a true artiste like myself. Oh, I am positively green with envy, Ragnor snapped. Come now, Ragnor. That's not fair, said Magnus. You know I love it when you make jokes about your complexion.
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I love you, Tessa, and I have loved you, almost since the moment I met you.
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Your trusting idiocy knows no bounds
Cassandra Clare
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I've got the Mark of Cain, said Simon. That means nothing can kill me, right? You can kill yourself, Magnus said, somewhat unhelpfully. As far as I know, inanimate objects can accidentally kill you. So if you were planning on teaching yourself the lambada on a greased platform over a pit full of knives, I wouldn't. There goes my Sa
Cassandra Clare