Tessa had begun to tremble. This is what she had always wanted someone to say. What she had always, in the darkest corner of her heart, wanted Will to say. Will, the boy who loved the same books she did, the same poetry she did, who made her laugh even when she was furious. And here he was standing in front of her, telling her he loved the words of her heart, the shape of her soul. Telling her something she had never imagined anyone would ever tell her. Telling her something she would never be told again, not in this way. And not by him. And it did not matter. "It's too late", she said.
Cassandra ClareI'm not ritualistic about writing. I try to write as often as possible, which means that I have to be able to write in all kinds of situations, whether it's at home on my couch, out at a cafe, or traveling.
Cassandra ClareSometimes when she looks at him that way he finds himself almost blushing; a feeling so strange he almost doesnโt recognize it. Jace Wayland doesnโt blush.
Cassandra ClareWe have a name," said Jace. "Magnes B-" "Shut up." Alec hissed, thwacking Jace with his closed menu. Jace looked injured. "Jesus," he rubbed his arm. "What's your problem?
Cassandra ClareWell, it seems a bit silly, looking there,โ said Will. โItโs not like Mortmainโs going to lodge a complaint against the Shadow-hunters through official channels. โVery upset Shadowhunters refused to all die when I wanted them to. Demand recompense. Please mail cheque to A. Mortmain, 18 Kensington Roadโ
Cassandra Clare