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Sometimes carrying the burden of an upsetting truth, and hiding it, is actually a gift you give to someone else. You bear that burden, so they don’t have to, in a situation where telling them will change nothing.
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
Truth
Morality
Change
Telling
Give
Gift
Upsetting
Nothing
Bears
Carrying
Sometimes
Situation
Hiding
Giving
Actually
Upset
Else
Burden
Someone
Bear
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Oh, God, the lovebirds,” Magnus said, pulling the pillow off his face. “I hate happy couples.
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[Magnus] was wearing canary-yellow pajamas, and on his feet were green slippers with alien faces, complete with sproingy atennae.
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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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If I might ask--, she began. Will sighed. You know you'll ask whether I say it's all right or not.
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You’re attacking that one like a wolverine.
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The thing about the Mirror is that no one knows where it is. In fact, no one knows what it is.” It’s a mirror,” Simon said. “You know – reflective, glass. I’m just assuming.
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Wanderlust is not unheard of in our kind it comes upon us now and then. When you can live forever, staying in one place can come to seem a dull prison after many, many years.
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Look, I asked you here for a reason. Much as I hate to admit it, vampire, we have something in common. Totally awesome hair? Simon suggested.
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How can you not understand? He pointed at her books. You read novels. Obviously, I'm here to rescue you. Don't I look like Sir Galahad? He raised his arms dramatically. My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure---
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Don't stop there. I suppose there are also, what, vampires and werewolves and zombies? Of course there are. Although you mostly find zombies farther south, where the voudun priests are. What about mummies? Do they only hang around Egypt? Don't be ridiculous. No one believes in mummies.
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Alec looked at her and shook his head. How do you manage never to get mud on your clothes? Isabelle shrugged philosophically. I'm pure at heart. It repels the dirt.
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Jesus! Luke exclaimed. Actually, it's just me, said Simon. Although I've been told the resemblance is startling.
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Grief makes you feel alone, but you're not. I know you don't believe in-in religion-the same way I do, but you can believe you're surrounded by people who love you, can't you?
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Oh, I'll trust you, the boy told him carelessly. It hardly matters. We are all betrayed sooner or later—all betrayed, or traitors. I see that a flair for the dramatic runs in the blood, Magnus said under his breath.
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I am not the one of us who has no heart.
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Do you normally turn up in gentlemen's bedrooms in the middle of the night? If I'd known that, I would have campaigned harder to make sure Charlotte let you stay.
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Her throat ached: adoration, heartbreak, in equal measure. “Kiss me,” she said. “Please.
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No. That's Clary shes's my best friend. Simon pocketed his phone. And she has a boyfriend. Like, really, really, really has a boyfriend. The nuclear bomb of boyfriends. Trust me on this one.
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It was a bit warm. Still. If one could look this fabulous, one had an obligation to. One should wear everything, or one should wear nothing at all.
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Clary stopped dead in her tracks. Simon? Oh, God, said Jace, sounding resigned. And here I'd actually hoped I'd got hold of something interesting. -Clary and Jace pg. 114
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