Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
You're a reader as well as a writer, so write what you'd want to read.
Cassandra Clare
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
Cassandra Clare
Age: 51
Born: 1973
Born: July 31
Author
Film Producer
Journalist
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Teheran
Judith Rumelt
Writer
Read
Write
Wells
Book
Well
Writing
Reader
More quotes by Cassandra Clare
You're killing me because you want me to give a message to God for you? Jace shook his head, the point of the blade scraping across his throat. You're crazier than I thought
Cassandra Clare
Funny isn’t it?” said Sebastian. “The lies good people tell. He’ll probably make you eggs every day for the rest of your life now, and you’ll choke them down because you can’t tell him you don’t like them.” Clary thought of the Seelie Queen. “Love makes liars of us all?
Cassandra Clare
I hate ducks. Don't know why. I just always have.
Cassandra Clare
Clary grinned at Luke. “So you’re not moving to Idris, I take it?” “Nah,” he said. He looked as happy as she’d ever seen him. “The pizza here is terrible.
Cassandra Clare
Simon stepped between them. “I’m not going to let you fight with each other.” “And what are you going to do about it if . . . Oh.” Jace's gaze trailed up to Simon’s forehead, and he grinned reluctantly. “ So basically you’re threatening to turn me into something you can sprinkle on popcorn if I don’t do what you say?
Cassandra Clare
She unwrapped the blanket when she came in my door. You were inside it. She set you down on the floor and you started ranging around, picking things up, pulling my cat's tail—you screamed like a banshee when the cat scratched you, so I asked your mother if you were part banshee. She didn't laugh.
Cassandra Clare
Women do not think with logic and discretion but with emotions of the heart
Cassandra Clare
I hate that stuff. It tastes like feet. At that he smiled. How would you know what feet taste like? I just know.
Cassandra Clare
No matter what the price offered, no Downworlder would fail to listen to a warning against one of the nephilim.
Cassandra Clare
But that's what you're doing, isn't it? You're part of the fight just as much as the Shadowhunters on the ship—and I know you can take some of my strength, I've heard of warlocks doing that—so I'm offering. Take it. It's yours.
Cassandra Clare
Well, I'd certainly hate to interrupt your pleasant night stroll with my sudden death. He blinked. There is a fine line between sarcasm and outright hostility, and you seem to have crossed it. What's up?
Cassandra Clare
Break a leg up there, and I'll be down here hopefully breaking someone elses.
Cassandra Clare
That was what humans did: They left on another messages through time, pressed between pages or carved into rock. Like reaching out a hand through time, and trusting in a phantom hoped-for hand to catch yours. Humans did not last forever. They could only hope what they made would endure.
Cassandra Clare
For our purposes you can consider it a small country between Germany and France. But there isn't anything between Germany and France. Except Switzerland. Precisely, said Jace.
Cassandra Clare
Is your inner vampire different from your...outer vampire? Definitely. He wants me to wear midriff-baring shirts and a fedora. So your inner vampire is Magnus?
Cassandra Clare
He put his arms about himself as if he were cold. I do not know who to be without him.
Cassandra Clare
I get no sense from his note at all,” said Will, bounding to his feet, “except that he can quote Tennyson’s lesser poetry. Sophie, how quickly can you have Tessa ready?” “Half an hour,” said Sophie, not looking up from the dress. “Meet me in the courtyard in half an hour, then,” said Will. “I’ll wake Cyril. And be prepared to swoon at my finery.
Cassandra Clare
But you hardley even know himshe said.He could be a serial killer I did have that thought.I checked the apartment out,but if his got an ice cooler full of arms in it,I havent seen it yet.Anyway he seems pretty since.
Cassandra Clare
Ah,” said a voice from the doorway, “having your annual ‘everyone thinks Will is a lunatic’ meeting, are you? “It’s biannual,” said Jem. “And no, this is not that meeting.
Cassandra Clare
Clary, he whispered. There was a thump, and she realized he had fallen to his kees by the side of her bed. She didn't move, but her body tightened. His voice was a whisper. Clary, it's me. It's me.
Cassandra Clare