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I fear I must agree, Magnus murmured. He pressed a hand over his heart and his new peacock-blue waistcoast. I strive to find some respect in my heart for you, but alas! It seems an impossible quest.

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
Seems
Strive
Find
Agree
Peacock
Must
Blue
Murmured
Heart
Respect
Magnus
Impossible
Pressed
Hand
Quests
Fear
Quest
Hands
Alas

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For a moment Clary thought she might fall she felt as if something essential had been torn away from her, an arm or a leg, and she stared at Jace in blank astonishment-- what did he feel, did he feel nothing? She didn't think she could bear it if he felt nothing.
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I must say, I rather like the way you manage Will.
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Now this is really going to impress Valentine. I don't know, Clary said. Other crack teams get bat boomerangs and wall-crawling powers we get the Aquatruck. If you don't like it, Nephilim, came Magnus's voice, faintly, from the truck cab, you're welcome to see if you can walk on the water.
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When one steals a flying balloon and animates it to fly over Paris, one should, ideally, have some idea how said balloon normally works.
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They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite
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Don't stop there. I suppose there are also, what, vampires and werewolves and zombies? Of course there are. Although you mostly find zombies farther south, where the voudun priests are. What about mummies? Do they only hang around Egypt? Don't be ridiculous. No one believes in mummies.
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And there are vampires, too? Werewolves, warlocks, all that stuff? Clary gnawed her lower lip. So I hear. And you kill them, too? Simon asked, directing the question to Jace, who had put the stele back in his pocket and was examining his flawless nails for defects. Only when they've been naughty.
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How can you tell? That I like books, I mean. The look on your face when you walked in, somehow I doubted you were that impressed by me.
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I can't believe he took you to an actual resteraunt. I assumed his idea od a date would be making you watch him play World of Warcraft with his nerd friends.
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Charlotte, who had sagged back in her chair, her eyes half-closed, said, “Will, I have already been up all night copying down the relevant parts. Much of it was—” “Gibberish?” Jem suggested. “Pornographic?” said Will at the same time. “Could be both,” said Will. “Haven’t you ever heard of pornographic gibberish before?
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Now that you know the truth, you can never go back.
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Inanimate objects are harmless indeed, Mr. Mortmain. But one cannot always say the same of the men who use them.
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Love potions? For Will Herondale? T’aint my way to turn down payment, but any man who looks like you has got no need of love potions, and that’s a fact.
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Even in half demon hunter clothes, Clary thought, he looked like the kind of boy who'd come over your house to pick you up for a date and be polite to your parents and nice to your pets. Jace on the other hand, looked like the kind of boy who'd come over your house and burn it down just for kicks.
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If only Simon were here. He could probably bore you to sleep.
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There are so many worse things than death. Not to be loved or not to be able to love: that is worse.
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I suppose we all lie to ourselves sometimes.
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Is this one of those days where we all stalk out in fury? Because I simply haven't got the energy for it.
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He cocked his head to the side. Did he die well? He died screaming. Charlotte's bluntness startled Tessa. What a beautiful thing to hear.
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She turned and looked at him. Ducks? she said again. A smile tugged the edge of his mouth. I hate ducks. Don't know why. I just always have.
Cassandra Clare