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Ragnor looked very regretful about all the choices that had led him to his being in this place and especially in this company

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
Especially
Company
Choices
Place
Regretful
Looked

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You're staring at me, Simon said. Why are you staring at me? Have I got something on my face?
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I know how you are with your words, and, Will- I love all of them. Every word you say. The silly ones, the mad ones, the beautiful ones, and the ones that are only for me. I love them, and I love you. - Tessa Gray
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Please don’t do this—don’t do this to me. If anything happened to you—” He looked at her with surprise. There was already a red stain on the white bandages that wrapped his chest, where his movements had pulled his wound open. “I…” “What?” “I’m not used to you loving me,” he said.
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She felt as if the world were tilting and she was clinging on helplessly, trying to keep from tumbling into a black abyss.
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The only way that we can protect each other is if we are together. If we face things together. If we trust each other.
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Black hair and blue eyes are my favorite combination.
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Do you ever feel like screaming?' Clary asked him [Jace]. 'Some of the time.
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Even the trip throught the Portal had not disarranged Magnus's hair spikes. He tugged on one proudly. Check it out, he said to Isabelle. Magic? Hair gel. $3.99 at Ricky's.
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There were some memories, though, that never faded.
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Appearances are significant, and never more than in politics. You can always sway the crowd, provided you have a good story.
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And write what you love - dont feel pressured to write serious prose if what you like is to be funny. You're a reader as well as a writer, so write what you'd want to read.
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Oh, leave it,” said Jem, kicking Will, not without affection, lightly on the ankle. “She’s annexed my plan!” “Will,” Tessa said firmly. “Do you care more about the plan being enacted or about getting credit for it?” Will pointed a finger at her. “That,” he said. “The second one.
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with his customary crooked smile, “are just too unlikely to dwell upon.
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Forsooth, I no longer toil in vain, To prove that demon pox warps the brain. So though 'ti pity, it's not in vain That the pox-ridden worm was slain: For to believe in me, you all must deign.
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I don't want tea, said Clary, with muffled force. I want to find my mother. And then I want to find out who took her in the first place, and I want to kill them. Unfortunately, said Hodge, we're all out of bitter revenge at the moment, so it's either tea or nothing.
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He glanced furtively up and down the hallway. Hodge too. Everyone wants to talk to me. Except you, I bet you don't want to talk to me, said Jace. No, said Clary. I want to eat. I'm starving.
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My ideas often come from strong mental images. When I'm observing some relatively ordinary thing, I'll think, What if.... and out of that brainstorming a story emerges.
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While the Clave disapproves of trespassers, oddly they take an even darker view of beheading and skinning people. They're peculiar that way.
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I was just wondering if you were armed. You want anything? Dagger, maybe? He opened his own suit jacket just a bit, and Simon saw something long an metallic glinting against the inside lining. No wonder you and Jace like each other so much. You're both crazy walking arsenals.
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He leaned against the door frame, ignoring the kick of adrenaline the sight of her produced. He wondered why, not for the first time. Isabelle used her beauty like she used her whip, but Clary didn't know she was beautiful at all. Maybe that was why.
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