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She closed her hands around his and shut her eyes, imagining their bed cut free of this strange prison, floating through space or on the surface of the ocean, just the two of them alone.

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
Free
Surface
Eye
Prison
Ocean
Hands
Cutting
Imagining
Two
Strange
Floating
Around
Alone
Closed
Eyes
Shut
Space
Bed

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I’ve been wandering around all night—I couldn’t sleep—and I kept finding myself walking here. To you.
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If you were half as funny as you think you are, you'd be twice as funny as you are now.
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He has become a worm. That is what I am telling you. I don't suppose it would be possible, said Henry into the silence, to, er, step on him?
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Do you have a lot of other profound thoughts like that? Blood is blood? A toaster is a toaster? A Gelatinous Cube is a Gelatinous Cube?
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I don't know how I could sleep at night, not knowing I was surrounded by a thousand other sleeping, dreaming souls. - pg 120, Jem to Tessa & Will
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To love something is to destroy it forever.
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We were once getting married. And I have loved you all this time- a century and a half. -Jem
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Don't fight in front of the client, boys. Catarina implored in her sweet voice, or I will knock your heads together so hard, your skulls will crack like eggs
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If there is a life after this one, he said, let me meet you in it, James Carstairs.
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I want it to stop, he said. Sophie says everyone is still searching for a cure for me. I know I gave Will my permission, but I want everyone to cease looking now, Charlotte. It is over.
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Don't make it sound like that. Like some ordinary sort of grief. It's not like that. They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite. Over. This is a fresh wound every day.
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You cannot save every fallen bird, said Woosley, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms. Even the handsome ones. One will do, said Magnus, and, as Will was no longer within his sight, he let the front door fall shut.
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I am a man he told her, and men do not consume pink beverages. Get thee gone woman, and bring me something brown.
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Charlotte, who had sagged back in her chair, her eyes half-closed, said, “Will, I have already been up all night copying down the relevant parts. Much of it was—” “Gibberish?” Jem suggested. “Pornographic?” said Will at the same time. “Could be both,” said Will. “Haven’t you ever heard of pornographic gibberish before?
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It’s me,” said Jace. “Watching me play Scrabble is enough to make most women swoon. Imagine if I actually put in some effort.
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With their hands clasped like children in a fairy tale, she fell asleep beside him in the dark.
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She looked around. They had drifted far away from the bank of the canal. Are we stealing this boat? Stealing' is such an ugly word, he mused. What do you want to call it? He picked her up and swung her around before putting her down. An extreme case of window-shopping.
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Tell me, is he always really rude, or does he save that for mundanes?
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Maybe he's lonely. Sebastian can't be the greatest company. We don't know that. He could be absolutely fantastic at Scrabble, said Magnus.
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Why, oh why, had Jace picked a fight with a pack of wolves? What had possessed him? Then again, it was Jace. He'd pick a fight with a Mack truck if the urge took him. -Clary, pg.40-
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