He looked at her levelly. There was something in his eyes, a sort of quizzical admiration; she wondered if it was simply admiration of Jessamineโs looks. โNo,โ he said. โNo, even though you are the perfect picture of Jessamine, I can see Tessa through it somehow as if, if I were to scrape away a layer of paint, there would be my Tessa underneath.โ โI am not your Tessa either.โ The light sparkling in his eyes dimmed. โFair enough,โ he said. โI suppose you are not.
Cassandra Clarejace's clothes had been clean,stylish,ordinary. Sebastian had been wearing a long black wool trench coat that had looked expensive. Like an evil Burbeery ad, Simon said when she was done.
Cassandra ClareRage flared up in Tessa and she considered belting Woolsey with the poker whether he came near her or not. He had moved awfully quickly while fighting Will, though, and she didnโt fancy her chances. โYou donโt know James Carstairs. Donโt speak about him.โ โLove him, do you?โ Woolsey managed to make it sound unpleasant. โBut you love Will, too.โ Tessa froze. She had known that Magnus knew of Willโs affection for her, but the idea that what she felt for him in return was written across her face was too terrifying to contemplate.
Cassandra ClareI always knew there were vampires, dude,โ heโd said. โBecause, you know how thereโs people you know who, like, always look the same, even when theyโre, like, a hundred years old? Like David Bowie? Thatโs because theyโre vampires.
Cassandra ClareThis 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