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To her you're Jocelyn's daughter. But I'll always be Valentine's son

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
Jocelyn
Valentine
Jace
Son
Daughter
Always

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I learned to share work with people even when it was in its rough stages without worrying that they'd be filled with scorn and hatred. After all, I can read their rough work without turning on them like a wildebeest.
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That sounds terrific, thought Cary, just you, your comatose wife your shell-shocked son, and your daughter who hates your guts. Not to mention that your two kids may be in love with each other. Yeah, that sounds like a perfect family reunion.
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Mundanes who involve themselves in things they know nothing about are likely to meet unpleasant endings.
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Isabelle glanced back at them. They're staring at you. Maybe their master died and they're looking for another vampire to own them. You could have pets. She grinned. Or, Simon said ,maybe they're here for the hash browns.
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Dudes, He said, Do not follow other dudes to the bathroom. Isabelle sighed. Latent homosexual panic will do you in every time
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I shall see you on Blackfriars Bridge, Tessa.
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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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And I don’t see how Sebastian can be all that fond of Jace, either. He was horribly jealous of him all his life. He thought Jace was Valentine’s favorite,” added Clary. “Not to mention,” Magnus noted, “that Jace killed him. That would put anyone off.
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I have a feeling you're right, Sherwin.' 'Simon. My name is Simon.
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Sometimes minor characters are based on people I know, on friends of mine. But I'm not writing a thinly veiled version of my own life.
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You snuck up on me,” she said. “I guess I’m not much of a Shadowhunter, huh?” Simon shrugged. “Well, in your defense, I do move with a silent, pantherlike grace.
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Doing the right thing because you love someone sucks sometimes.
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And in some way, Clary thought, he meant it, meant his gratitude. He had long ago lost the ability to distinguish between force and cooperation, between fear and willingness, between love and torture. And with that realization came a rush of numbness—what was the point of hating Valentine for being a monster when he didn’t even know he was one?
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In all the world, you are what I love the most.
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Love did not overcome everything. Love did not always endure. All you had could be taken away, love could be the last thing you had, and then love could be taken too.
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What's all this about yanking poor Magnus and Alec back from their vacation? Isabelle demanded. They have opera tickets!
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She had thought she was going to save her mother, and now there was going to be nothing for her to do but sit by her mother's bedside, hold her limp hand, and home someone else, somewhere else, would be able to do what she couldn't.
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And indeed it was, the arrow still protruding from its wet, grayish skin, humping its body along with incredible speed. A flick of its tail caught the edge of a statue, sending it flying into the dry ornamental pool, where it shattered into dust. “By the Angel, it just crushed Sophocles,” noted Will. “Has no one respect for the classics these days?
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To draw something is to try to capture it forever.
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No one told you to call your band Salacious Mold, my friend. We're Millennium Lint now, Simon protested
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