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She felt as if the world were tilting and she was clinging on helplessly, trying to keep from tumbling into a black abyss.

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
Black
Felt
Keep
Trying
Tilting
World
Helplessly
Tumbling
Clinging
Abyss

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You would make a very ugly woman I would not. I would be stunning
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Waiting for a special occasion to kill me? Christmas is coming.
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She felt as if she bled her regret and loneliness from her very pores, and yet she could not shape those feelings into any sentiment she could imagine her parents could bear reading.
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I get no sense from his note at all,” said Will, bounding to his feet, “except that he can quote Tennyson’s lesser poetry. Sophie, how quickly can you have Tessa ready?” “Half an hour,” said Sophie, not looking up from the dress. “Meet me in the courtyard in half an hour, then,” said Will. “I’ll wake Cyril. And be prepared to swoon at my finery.
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Lightwoods,” Magnus said. “They always have to have the last word.
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Woolsey bites on occasion
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Is he dead? he inquired. He looks dead. No, snapped Maryse. He's not dead. Have you checked? I could kick him if you want.
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Not really, but after that I think about how I could kill him while he slept if I really wanted to, and then I feel better.
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I want what you want. Whenever you want it.
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Tessa knows Will,” protested Charlotte. “She trusts Will.” “Iwouldn’t go that far,” muttered Tessa.
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Unhappy? I was lucky. So, so lucky. And I couldn’t see it.” His eyes met hers. “I love you,” he said. “And you make me happier than I ever thought I could be. And now that I know what it’s like to be someone else—to lose myself—I want my life back. My family. You. All of it.” His eyes darkened. “I want it back.
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I shall see you on Blackfriars Bridge, Tessa.
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But you hate poetry! Yes, but you make me want to write it.
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But you love her.” Will stared at him. “Of course I do,” he said finally. “I had come to think I would never love anyone, but I love her.
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We live and breathe words.
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You're staring at me, Simon said. Why are you staring at me? Have I got something on my face?
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If you love someone, you're not supposed to want them to come back. Better a peaceful sleep in the earth than the life of a zombie--not really dead but not really alive, either.
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She gritted her teeth. She was here with Sebastian, on her way to see a powerful warlock, and mentally she was maundering on about the way Jace smelled.
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By the time Alec came back into the training room, Jace was lying on the floor, envisioning lines of dancing girls in an effort to ignore the pain in his wrists. It wasn’t working. ~pg. 317~
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Creating characters is like throwing together ingredients for a recipe. I take characteristics I like and dislike in real people I know, or know of, and use them to embellish and define characters.
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