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She felt dirty all over and looking over Sebastian, sweat on his brow and his naked torso barely covered by the sheets, she had to swallow back bile at what she'd just done.

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
Naked
Brow
Looking
Brows
Swallow
Felt
Barely
Back
Sheets
Done
Sweat
Bile
Covered
Torso
Dirty
Sebastian

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It isn't against the Law to be an idiot.
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Everyone has something they can't live without.
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There's nothing wild about me. I'm a solid middle-aged man. Except that once a month you turn into a wolf and go tearing around slaughtering things, Clary said. It could be worse, Luke said. Men my age have been known to purchase expensive sports cars and sleep with supermodels.
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Do you want to go back to Vienna?” he said. Alec didn’t answer, just stared into space. “Or we could go somewhere else,” said Magnus. “Anywhere you want. Thailand, South Carolina, Brazil, Peru – Oh, wait, no, I’m banned from Peru. I’d forgotten about that. It’s a long story, but amusing if you want to hear it.
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Love makes liars of us all.
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Only mundanes say they're sorry when what they mean is I share your grief,' Jace observed.
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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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I may be a killer, Jace said, but I know what I am. Can you say the same?
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I think he’s handling it with grace. A lot of teenage boys would sulk, or lurk around under your window with a boom box.
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If I was harsh with you, it was because I cannot bear to see you treat yourself as if you are worth nothing. Whatever part you might act to the contrary, I see you as you really are, my blood brother. Not just better than you pretend to be, but better than most people could hope to be.
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Every meeting led to a parting, and so it would, as long as life was mortal. In every meeting there was some of the sorrow of parting, but in everything parting there was some of the joy of meeting as well.
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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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When Will truly wants something,” said Jem, quietly, “when he feels something — he can break your heart.
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You never cared that I was your sister before.” “Didn’t I?” His black eyes flicked up and down her. “Our father’s dead,” he said. “There are no other relatives. You and I, we are the last. The last of the Morgensterns. You are the only one left whose blood runs in my veins, too. You are my last chance.
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endless hope, endless disappointment.
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You're not gay, are you? Simon's greenish color deepened. If I were, I would dress better.
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Their beauty had always seemed to him like the beauty of pressed flowers-lovely, but dead.
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She had never imagined that the kiss would be so brief and desperate and wild. Or that it would taste of holy water. Holy water and blood.
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Sometimes carrying the burden of an upsetting truth, and hiding it, is actually a gift you give to someone else. You bear that burden, so they don’t have to, in a situation where telling them will change nothing.
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Well I'd certainly hate to interrupt your pleasant night stroll with my sudden death.
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