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You’re attacking that one like a wolverine.

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
Wolverine
Attacking
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More quotes by Cassandra Clare

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Goodness, Tessa said to the back of his head. If you keep seeing Six-Fingered Nigel like this, he'll expect you to declare your intentions.
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If You don't give readers what they want, they'll be mad at you. If you give them what they do want, they'll be even more mad at you.
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How can you tell? That I like books, I mean. The look on your face when you walked in, somehow I doubted you were that impressed by me.
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To draw something is to try to capture it forever.
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Lord Raziel. Surely yoy would not have allowed such a thing as a ritual by wich you might be summoned to exist if you did not intend to be summoned. We Nephilim are your children. We need your guidance
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To marry a girl just to make her a widow,” said Gabriel Lightwood. “Many would say that was not a kindness.
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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.
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You’re seventeen,” Magnus said. “You can’t have wasted a life you’ve barely lived.
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Will looked horrified. What kind of monster could possibly hate chocolate?
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Now that you know the truth, you can never go back.
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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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When two souls are as one, they stay together on the Wheel. I was born into this world to love you, and I will love you in the next life, and the one after that. ~Jem Carstairs
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I stabbed you. With a massive sword. You caught on fire. His lips twitched, almost imperceptibly. Okay, so maybe our problems aren't like other couples.
Cassandra Clare
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Light like thin grey soup seeped through the windows. The door opened and Mrs. Dark came in, followed by her sister, who had no head, only the white bone of her spine protruding from her raggedly severed neck.
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His hands slipped from his throat, and he crashed to the ground like a tree falling. Oh, dear, said Pangborn, gazing at the fallen body of his comrade with fastidious distaste. How unpleasant.
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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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You called me and said you were home and wanted to go out for a pizza. I did? What time is it? Time for pizza, [Catarina] replied.
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As long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss.
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One does no question miracles, or complain that they are no constructed perfectly to one's liking.
Cassandra Clare
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Jace, on the other hand, looked like the sort of boy who'd come over to your house and burn it down for kicks.
Cassandra Clare