He leaned against the door frame, ignoring the kick of adrenaline the sight of her produced. He wondered why, not for the first time. Isabelle used her beauty like she used her whip, but Clary didn't know she was beautiful at all. Maybe that was why.
Cassandra ClareHmph," she said. "I'd like to see you learn how to manage sitting and standing up straight in stays and petticoats and a dress with a foot's worth of train!" "So would I," said Gideon from across the room.
Cassandra ClareMagnus shrugged. "He also made inappropriate amorous advances to a startled grandmotherly sort selling flowers, an Irish wolfhound, and innocent hat stand in a dwelling he broke into, and myself.
Cassandra ClareI have come to understand something about novels," Tessa said. "And what is that?" "They are not true.
Cassandra ClareWhat about Isabelle?" Simon asked. "Where is she?" The humor, such as it was, left Jace's expression. "She won't come out of her room," he said. "She thinks that what happened to Max was her fault. She won't even come to the funeral." "Have you tried talking to her?" "No," Jace said, "we've been punching her repeatedly in the face instead. Why, do you think that won't work?" "Just thought I'd ask." Simon's tone was mild.
Cassandra Clare