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Tessa knows Will,” protested Charlotte. “She trusts Will.” “Iwouldn’t go that far,” muttered Tessa.

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
Protested
Tessa
Muttered
Trusts
Charlotte

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Behind her, Jace moved out into the water with a contained grace that barely rippled the surface. Simon behind him, was splashing and cursing.
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Clary wondered what exactly peanut-fish-olive-tomato soup tasted like.
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She could ask for anything, she thought dizzily, anything--an end to pain or world hunger or disease, or for peace on earth. But then again, perhaps these things weren't in the power of angels to grant, or they would already have been granted. And perhaps people were supposed to find these things for themselves.
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Magnus had learned to be careful about giving his memories with his heart. When people died, it felt like all the pieces of yourself you had given to them went as well. It took so long, building yourself back up until you were whole again, and you were never entirely the same.
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You point your feet out too much when you walk,” Will went on. He was busy polishing an apple on his shirtfront, and appeared not to notice Tessa glaring at him. “Camille walks delicately. Like a faun in the woods. Not like a duck” “I do not walk like a duck.” “I like ducks,” Jem observed diplomatically. “Especially the ones in Hyde Park.
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Waiting for a special occasion to kill me? Christmas is coming.
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Will has always been the brighter burning star, the one to catch attention — but Jem is a steady flame, unwavering and honest. He could make you happy.
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nothing says 'I love you' like reducing yourself to a smoldering pile of ashes
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Now that I'm in your mind, want to see some naked mental pictures of Jace?
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You cannot hide your true self forever.
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And spare me the jokes about scoring. Dammit, woman, you read my mind, he said. Is there no filthy wordplay you can't forsee? It's my special magical power. I can read your mind when you're thinking dirty thoughts. So, ninety-five percent of the time.
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There's always the dinner rolls, said Will, pointing to a covered basket. Though I warn you, they're as hard as stones. You could use them to kill black beetles, if any beetles bother you in the middle of the night.
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In a closed urban fantasy, the magical world is secret and no one knows about it. In an open urban fantasy, everyone knows about it. So with a closed fantasy, you have to figure out how the world keeps itself secret, and with an open one, you have to figure out how knowledge of magic has altered the world we know.
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We're called Shadowhunters. At least, that's what we call ourselves. The Downworlders have less complimentary names for us.
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No fewer than four of my esteemed elders told me I was on no account to ever converse with you, so I vowed that I would know you. My name is Edmund Herondale. May I ask your name? They reffered to you only as 'that disgraceful one-warlock show.
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I was looking for Simon. Jordan squinted at her. It's two in the morning. She shrugged. He's a vampire. But I'm not.
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There is nothing quite like the moral absolutism of the young. -Hodge
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Henry, said Charlotte, who appeared to have recovered from her shock, if you set yourself on fire deliberately, I will institute divorce proceedings. Now sit down and eat your supper. And say hello to our guest.
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It would hardly benefit me to hold anything back unnecessarily, when I know what I'm asking. For you to find a needle in--God, not even a haystack. A needle in a tower full of other needles.
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Take off your shirt. Jace raised his eyebrows. I'm not going to attack you, she said impatiently. I can take the sight of your naked chest without swooning. Are you sure? he asked, obediently sliding the shirt off his shoulders. Because viewing my naked chest has caused many women to seriously injure themselves stampeding to get to
Cassandra Clare