Well, then, since you say there will be another life for me, let us both pray I do not make as colossal a mess of it as I have this one.
Cassandra ClareTime was like the rain, glittering as it fell, changing the world, but something that could also be taken for granted. Until you love a mortal. Then time became gold in a miser's hands, every bright year counted out carefully, infinitely precious, and each one slipping through you fingers. Cassandra Clare: What Really Happened in Peru
Cassandra Clare