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Where did you get that? Jace looked down and saw that the spider demon's poison had eaten a hole in his shirt, leaving a good deal of his left shoulder bare. The shirt? At Macy's Winter sale.
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
Saws
Demon
Sale
Deal
Shirts
Spiders
Deals
Poison
Eaten
Left
Holes
Bare
Good
Shoulders
Jace
Winter
Shoulder
Leaving
Shirt
Macy
Looked
Hole
Spider
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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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He banged on the side of the carriage. Thomas! We must away at once to the nearest brothel. I seek scandal and low companionship.
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So it's true. You can walk in sunlight. I thought perhaps it might have worn off. If I feel the urge to burst into flames, I'll let you know.
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That does it, said Jace. I'm going to get you a dictionary for Christmas this year. Why? Isabelle said. So you can look up 'fun.' I'm not sure you know what it means.
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The only way you would have failed, she said, is if you had.
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No, I'm just a very naughty boy. I do all sorts of bad things. I kick kittens. I make rude gestures at nuns.
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And I think that you do not understand that sometimes the only choice is between acceptance and madness.
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As long as everyone's wearing their own pants. I see I have come in on a fascinating moment in the conversation.
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Lips. There was something strangely, delicately indelicate about the word, like a kiss itself.
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Are you threatening to kidnap me? If you want to look at it that way, Jace said, yes.
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Tess?” A soft voice at the door she looked up and saw Will there, silhouetted in the light from the corridor.
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She realized that this scarred, sarcastic boy, was gentle with the things he loved.
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Simon kept pace beside Clary for a few moments without speaking before he said, “So what did I miss? Naked dancing ladies?” Clary thought of the male faerie‘s torn-open ribs and shuddered. “Nothing that pleasant.
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Have you heard that modesty is an attractive traits? Only to ugly people
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Were you thinking about eating me?” Will inquired. “No!” “No one would blame you,” said Jem. “He’s very annoying.
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It's not gray, Clary felt compelled to point out. It's green. If there was such a thing as terminal literalism, you'd have died in childhood, said Jace.
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Her name rang in Will's mind like the chime of a bell he wondered if any other name on earth had such an inescapable resonance to it. She couldn't have been named something awful, could she, like Mildred. He couldn't imagine lying awake at night, staring up at the ceiling while invisible voices whispered 'Mildred' in his ears. But Tessa--
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She felt as if she had been running, and had created a hill and was racing down the other side, and there was no stopping now. Gravity was taking her where she had to go. But -- everyone cares about something. Don't they?
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Shadowhunters were brought up to handle anything, weren't they?
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What you're blaming yourself for is being who you are. And that's no one's fault and nothing you can change.
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