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And the gold of her ruined wedding dress.

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
Wedding
Dress
Dresses
Gold
Ruined

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Beauty fades, but cooking is eternal.
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But maybe you never really had someone, she thought now. Maybe, no matter how much you loved them, they could slip through your fingers like water, and there was nothing you could do about it.
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He would look so young. They were both so young. Tessa knew it was unusual to marry at seventeen and eighteen, but they were racing a clock. The clock of Jem's life, before it wound down.
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To love is to destroy, to destroy is to love. -Jace Herondale
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If no one in the entire world cared about you, did you really exist at all?
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You cannot hide your true self forever.
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There was something about Jace, though, that made her want to push him, crack that shell of cynicism and make him admit her believed something, felt something, cared about anythinng at all.
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He didn't know what books meant to her, that books were symbols of truth and meaning.
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Here's a hot tip: Most girls don't like being stalked.
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I like in books when we start the book and you really don't know how it's going to turn out.
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Well, you'll have to wait till tomorrow. I'm out of commission. (he points to his shirt) Look. Jammies.
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When somebody tells you there's something wrong with your book they're almost always right, when they tell you how to fix it they're almost always wrong.
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Now that you know the truth, you can never go back.
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Do not think I do not know that Cecily wants you to return home with her. And do not think I do not know that you remain for Jem's sake. And yours, he said before he could stop himself.
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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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(Jace) Is there anything special you want to see? Paris? Budapest? The Leaning Tower of Pisa? Only if it falls on Sebastian's head, she thought.
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He held her close enough to kiss, close enough to whisper the most important secrets in the world, and he spoke to her as he would have wanted some good angel to speak to his family, to his own shivering young soul, long ago and in a land far away.
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Jace slammed his hand down on the stele. “Clary-“ “She said she doesn’t want it,” said Simon. “Ha-ha.” “Ha-ha?” Jace looked incredulous. “That’s your comeback?
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But God knows, I don't want anyone but you. I don't even want to want anyone but you.
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Lips. There was something strangely, delicately indelicate about the word, like a kiss itself.
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