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Do not think I do not know that Cecily wants you to return home with her. And do not think I do not know that you remain for Jem's sake. And yours, he said before he could stop himself.
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
Thinking
Jem
Remain
Sake
Return
Wants
Stop
Home
Think
Cecily
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Luke moved as silently as fog, while Maryse's heels sounded like gunshots on the marble floor. Clary wondered if Isabelle's propensity for unsuitable footwear was genetic.
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Take my hands,” Alec said. “And take my strength too. Whatever of it you can use to— to keep yourself going.
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It's been so long that I think I was unsettled by the idea of feeling like I belonged anywhere. But you made me feel like I belong.
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Let me guess. Luke an Amatis are at the Accords Hall, having another meeting.” “Yeah. I think they’re having the meeting where they get together and decide what other meetings they need to have.
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Your life is yours to live as you choose.
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You must behave as if return is certain, not a matter of chance, Jem said.
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He had electric blue hair that had stuck around his head like tendrils of a startled octopus.
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As long as everyone's wearing their own pants. I see I have come in on a fascinating moment in the conversation.
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He's my neophyte Downworlder to mock and boss around, not yours.
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He said there are thousands of Shadowhunters, but great love comes once in a lifetime if one is lucky, and one would be a fool to let it go.
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You may choose your friends, but not your unlikely saviors,” Magnus said cheerfully.
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Church was doing what he often did when dropped - lying on his back with all four legs in the air, pretending to be dead in order to induce guilt in his owners.
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But that's what you're doing, isn't it? You're part of the fight just as much as the Shadowhunters on the ship—and I know you can take some of my strength, I've heard of warlocks doing that—so I'm offering. Take it. It's yours.
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You can see where it was, years ago. Like an old woman who was once beautiful, but time has taken her beauty away.
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Lightwoods,” Magnus said. “They always have to have the last word.
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The warlock's gaze, on the flames, was remote and distant, as if he were looking back into the past. Simon couldn't help but remember what Magnus had said to him once, about living forever: Someday you and I will be the only two left.
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Against his own will, almost, Will felt himself understanding he would have done anything, he thought, told any lie, taken any risk, to make Tessa love him.
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Why does it take girls so long to shower?” he demanded. “Mortal girls, Shadowhunters, female warlocks, you‘re all the same. I‘m not getting any younger waiting out here.” -Magnus to Clary, pg.272-
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He closed his eyes. “I’m so tired, Tess,” he said. “I only wanted pleasant dreams for once.” “That is not the way to get them, Will,” she said softly. “You cannot buy or drug or dream your way out of pain.
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Maybe Alexander Lightwood would not break his heart.
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