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Clary: Aren't they supposed to be hiring someone else to train me full-time anyway?

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
Time
Hiring
Anyway
Supposed
Train
Aren
Full
Else
Someone
Clary

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The truth is that I love Simon like I should love you, and I wish that he was my brother and you weren't. - Clary
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It was hidden inside another book. One Valentine was unlikely to ever open. Magnus smiled crookedly. Simple Recipes for Housewives. No one can say your mother didn't have a sense of humor.
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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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By the time Alec came back into the training room, Jace was lying on the floor, envisioning lines of dancing girls in an effort to ignore the pain in his wrists. It wasn’t working. ~pg. 317~
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And like lambs to a slaughter we shall follow.
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Alec muttered a retort into his coffee. It rhymed with something that sounded a lot more like ducking glass mole.
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To marry a girl just to make her a widow,” said Gabriel Lightwood. “Many would say that was not a kindness.
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Enormous? Did you just call me FAT? I am not fat. - Jace
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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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Those girls on the other side of the car are staring at you. Of course they are, he said. I am stunningly attractive.
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Did you just kiss me? Will inquired. Magnus made a slip-second decision. No. I thought- On occasion the aftereffects of the painkilling spells can result in hallucinations of the most bizarre sort. Oh, Will said. How peculiar.
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Oh, God, the lovebirds,” Magnus said, pulling the pillow off his face. “I hate happy couples.
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He was still stroking the inside of her wrist, his touch doing odd delicious things to her skin and nerves.
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A lot of people feel like urban fantasy is a shortcut that gets you around world-building, because it's set in the real world. But it doesn't really work that way, as I found out. You have to come up with just as consistent an internal cosmology and magic system as you would if you were writing high fantasy.
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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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Clary closed her eyes. Remembering the way Jace had looked at her the night she'd freed Ithuriel, she couldn't help but imagine the way he'd look at her now if he saw her trying to lie down to die on the sand beside him. He wouldn't be touched, wouldn't think it was a beautiful gesture. He'd be angry at her for giving up. He'd be so--disappointed.
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If no one cares for you at all, do you even really exist?
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