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I hate ducks. Don't know why. I just always have.

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
Ducks
Hate
Always

More quotes by Cassandra Clare

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It means 'Shadowhunters: Looking Better in Black Than the Widows of our Enemies Since 1234'.
Cassandra Clare
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When Jace opened the greenhouse door, the scent hit Clary, soft as the padded blow of a cat's paw.
Cassandra Clare
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Magnus had learned to be careful about giving his memories with his heart. When people died, it felt like all the pieces of yourself you had given to them went as well. It took so long, building yourself back up until you were whole again, and you were never entirely the same.
Cassandra Clare
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Rule number one of anime, Simon said. He sat propped up against a pile of pillows at the foot of his bed, a bag of potato chips in one hand and the TV remote in the other. He was wearing a black T-shirt that said I BLOGGED YOUR MOM and a pair of jeans that were ripped in one knee. Never screw with a blind monk.
Cassandra Clare
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So I lied to you last night. I said that I just wanted one night with you. But I want every night with you.
Cassandra Clare
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He always lived in his head. He never cared about how things were, only how they would be, someday, when he had everything he wanted. When we had everything we wanted.
Cassandra Clare
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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.
Cassandra Clare
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unfortunately, we're all out of bitter evange at the moment, so it's either tea or nothing
Cassandra Clare
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My favorite jacket is an emergency item. Much like myself, it is both snuggly and fashionable.
Cassandra Clare
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So you really cant think of anyone else who might want to kill you?asked Jace. Unlike in your case there arent actually all that many people who dislike me.said Simon.
Cassandra Clare
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So when the moon's only partly full, you only feel a little wolfy? You could say that. Well, you can go ahead and hang your head out the car window if you feel like it. I'm a werewolf, not a golden retriever.
Cassandra Clare
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I am drawn to writing books about magic and the supernatural because those are the types of books I like to read. I've written many short stories with realistic settings, and I certainly wouldn't rule out realistic novels in the future!
Cassandra Clare
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Simon kept pace beside Clary for a few moments without speaking before he said, “So what did I miss? Naked dancing ladies?” Clary thought of the male faerie‘s torn-open ribs and shuddered. “Nothing that pleasant.
Cassandra Clare
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No. That's Clary shes's my best friend. Simon pocketed his phone. And she has a boyfriend. Like, really, really, really has a boyfriend. The nuclear bomb of boyfriends. Trust me on this one.
Cassandra Clare
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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.
Cassandra Clare
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Were you thinking about eating me?” Will inquired. “No!” “No one would blame you,” said Jem. “He’s very annoying.
Cassandra Clare
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And who are all these people? There weren't this many when I fell asleep. Alfie shrugged, indicating that the universe was mysterious and nothing would ever be fully understood.
Cassandra Clare
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Will nodded slowly, then looked up at tha black sky. The stars, he said. I have never seen them so bright. The wind has blown off the fog, I think. Magnus thought of the joy on Will's face as he had stood bleeding in Camille's living room, clutching the demon tooth in his hand. Somehow I don't think it's the stars that have changed.
Cassandra Clare
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Our hearts, they need a mirror, Tessa. We see our better selves in the eyes of those who love us. And there is a beauty that brevity alone provides.” He dropped his gaze, then raised it to hers. “I would give you everything of myself,” he said. “I would give you more in two weeks than most men would give you in a lifetime.
Cassandra Clare
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This was a voice that drew out memories stretched thin by years of recollection, like paper unfolded and refolded too many times. A voice that brought back, like a wave, the memory of another time on this bridge, a night so long ago, everything black and silver and the river rushing away under her feet.
Cassandra Clare