No. Absolutely not.” “Simon,” she said. “It’s a perfectly fine plan.” “The plan where you follow Jace and Sebastian off to some unknown dimensional pocket and we use these rings to communicate so those of us over here in the regular dimension of Earth can track you down? That plan?” “Yes.” “No,” he said. “No, it isn’t.” Clary sat back. “You don’t just get to say no.” “This plan involves me! I get to say no! No.” “Simon—” Simon patted the seat beside him as if someone were sitting there. “Let me introduce you to my good friend No.
Cassandra ClareA diary with no drawings of me in it? Where are the torrid fantasies? The romance covers?
Cassandra ClareI have a dress fitting to get to at three.' (Simon) 'Cool,' said Kyle, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder and heading for the door. 'Get them to make you something in red. It's totally your color.
Cassandra ClareI love you; I love you and I don’t care that you’re my sister; don’t be with him, don’t want him, don’t go with him. Be with me. Want me. Stay with me. I don’t know how to be without you.
Cassandra ClareWill sat where he was, gazing at the silver bowl in front of him; a white rose was floating in it, and he seemed prepared to stare at it until it went under. In the Kitchen Bridget was still singing one of her awful sad songs; the lyrics drifted in through the door: "Twas on an evening fair I went to take the air, I heard a maid making her moan; Said, 'Saw ye my father? Or ye my mother? Or saw ye my brother John? Or saw ye the lad that I love best, And his name it is Sweet William?" I may murder her, Tessa thought. Let her make a song about that.
Cassandra ClareThere was a small wooden gazebo built out over the water; Isabelle was sitting in it, staring out across the lake. She looked like a princess in a fairy tale, waiting at the top of her tower for someone to ride up and rescue her. Not that traditional princess behavior was like Isabelle at all. Isabelle with her whip and boots and knives would chop anyone who tried to pen her up in a tower into pieces, build a bridge out of the remains, and walk carelessly to freedom, her hair looking fabulous the entire time.
Cassandra Clare