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Come with me. Come with you? To Pandemonium? To the Void? And here I thought that my invitation to summer in New Jersey was the worst I had ever received.

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
Come
Invitations
Jersey
Void
Received
Summer
Worst
Thought
Pandemonium
Ever
Invitation

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Perhaps [James Herondale] loved vice for vice's own sake.
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Tessa is gone, and every moment she is gone is a knife ripping me apart from the inside.
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Here's a hot tip: Most girls don't like being stalked.
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How can you not understand? He pointed at her books. You read novels. Obviously, I'm here to rescue you. Don't I look like Sir Galahad? He raised his arms dramatically. My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure---
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I am, in the end, what you made me.
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...We die, we turn, we are reborn as we deserve to be reborn, based on our doings in this world. Will looked down at his bitten nails. I will probably be reborn as a slug that someone salts.
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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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Why did he kiss you? she said.
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The Law may be hard but it's the law.
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There might simply be nothing going on that might activate it. Perhaps there isn't anything here that Alec is afraid of. Magnus glanced at Alec and raised his eyebrows. Boo.
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Magnus's eyes went back to Alec. They were gold-green, as unreadable as the eyes of the cat he held on his lap. Not my favorite topic, Smedley. Simon, said Simon. If I'm going to die for you all, the least you could do is remember my name.
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It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, but it was all there was.
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It would be one thing if I had been cursed so that everyone I loved would die, said Will. I could keep myself from loving. To keep others from caring for me--it is an odd, exhausting procedure.
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Sophie said to me once that she was glad she had been scarred. She said that whoever loved her now would love her true self, and not her pretty face. This is your true self, Tessa. This power is who you are. Whoever loves you now--and you must also love yourself--will love the truth of you.
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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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He was staring straight ahead, still breathing hard. “I have something I want to give you.” “I gathered that.” At that he jerked his gaze back to hers and almost reluctantly grinned. “Not that.
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Do you miss Wales?” Tessa inquired. Will shrugged lightly. “What’s to miss? Sheep and singing,” he said. “And the ridiculous language. Fe hoffwn i fod mor feddw, fyddai ddim yn cofio fy enw.” “What does that mean?” “It means ‘I wish to get so drunk I no longer remember my own name,’ Quite useful.
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City of Fallen Angels ended on a cliffhanger. That was equally loved and hated by my readership.
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You have something on your neck. What Looks like a bite mark, what were you doing out all night, anyway? Nothing. I went walking in the park. Tried to clear my head. And ran into a vampire What? No! I fell. On your neck?
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Memories did one no good, not when one knew the truth in the present. Will was beautiful, but he was not hers he was anybody's. Something in him was broken, and trough that break spilled a blind cruelty, a need to hurt and to push away.
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