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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.
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
Jace
Mentally
Teeth
Powerful
Gritted
Way
Warlock
Warlocks
Sebastian
Smelled
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Ma'am, Magnus said, advancing. I must counsel you not to exit the carriage while a demon-slaying is in progress.
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I was looking for the opposite, really -something that might put an end to being in love
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I played it for my bride, and one day you will play for yours.
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Is there some particular reason that you're here? ... Not this again. Not what again? said Clary. Every time I annoy him, he retreats into his No Mundanes Allowed tree house. Simon pointed at Jace.
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So, technically, Simon said, even though Jace isn't actually related to you, you have kissed your brother.
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Pain made you strong. Loss made you powerful.
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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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She is fine. She hates us both but it really didn't sound like anything else was wrong
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Magnus, standing by the door, snapped his fingers impatiently. Move it along, teenagers. The only person who gets to canoodle in my bedroom is my magnificent self. Canoodle? repeated Clary, never having heard the word before. Magnificent? repeated Jace, who was just being nasty. Magnus growled. The growl sounded like Get out.
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So you are dying for love, then, Will said finally, his voice sounding constricted to his own ears. 'Dying a little faster for love. And there are worse things to die for.
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Yes...and I'm worried that if you get into the habit of making out with your instructors, you'll wind up making out with him too. Don't be sexist. They could find me a female instructor. In that case, you have my permission to make out with her as long as I can watch.
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He was still stroking the inside of her wrist, his touch doing odd delicious things to her skin and nerves.
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I've met an attractive weasel or two in my time. He looks more like a rat. -pg.170-
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I learned to play the instruments of war, he said, and paint in blood.
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