Quote

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.

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
Came
Followed
Spine
Dark
Opened
Bone
White
Sister
Windows
Light
Bones
Soup
Like
Door
Grey
Window
Neck
Doors
Necks
Seeped
Head
Thin
Severed

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I'm not going to be at all pleased if you've blinded me, Henry.
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If only Simon were here. He could probably bore you to sleep.
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Oh, I can never get enough. Which, incidentally, is what your sister said when--
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From the first time I saw you, I've belonged to you completely. I still do. If you want me. -Jace
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Were you hugging Clary? He looked at Sebastian in amazement. Sebastian shrugged. She's my sister. I'm pleased to see her. You don't hug people, Jace said. I ran out of time to bake a casserole.
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You know, when someone prefers their own brother over you, it isn't a confidence booster.
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I used to think if I married Master Jem—” Sophie picked at the blanket, then looked up and smiled bleakly. “You haven’t broken his heart yet, have you?” “No,” Tessa said. Just torn my own in two. “I haven’t broken his heart at all.
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In future, Clarissa, he said, it might be wise to mention that you already have a man in your bed, to avoid such tedious situations. You invited him into bed? Simon demanded, looking shaken. Ridiculous, isn't it? said Jace. We would never have all fit.
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He began it,” Cecily said, jerking her chin at Will, though she knew it was pointless. Jem, Will’s parabatai, treated her with the distant sweet kindness reserved for the little sisters of one’s friends, but he would always side with Will. Kindly, but firmly, he put Will above everything else in the world. Well, nearly everything.
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Will’s hand looked brown and sunburnt by contrast, their fingers dovetailed together like piano keys.
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Tell me you love me. Tell me you love me and will fight with me.
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The blood of Heaven binds you, said the Queen. Blood calls to blood, under the skin. But love and blood are not the same. Riddles, Clary said angrily. Do you even mean anything when you talk like that? He is bound to you, said the Queen. But does he love you?
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Do you really wish to disobey me, Marbas? Do you wish to anger my father?
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But it was Valentine. I saw him. In fact, he had the Sword with him when he came down to the cells and taunted me through the bars. It was like a bad movie, except he didn't actually twirl his mustache. - Jace Wayland
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Meanwhile, Will had begun cutting his toast into strips and was making rude pictographs out of them. Oh, that looks rather like a ...- , Jem began.
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Staring at him the way she might stare at a beloved place she was not sure she would ever see again, trying to commit the details to memory, to paint them on the backs of her eyelids that she might see it when she shut her eyes to sleep.
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There was something about Jace, though, that made her want to push him, crack that shell of cynicism and make him admit her believed something, felt something, cared about anythinng at all.
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The witchlight made his skin paler, his eyes more intently blue. They were the color of the water in the North Atlantic, where the ice drifted on its blue-black surface like the snow clinging to the dark glass pane of a window.
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Now that you know the truth, you can never go back.
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Oh, come on, Clary said. You're a vampire, not Spider-Man.
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