Has there ever been an Inquisitor who didn't die a horrible death?" Simon wondered out loud. " It's like being the drummer in Spinal Tap.
Cassandra Clareunder his dripping hair, he was as white as parchment, his hands clenched at his sides so tightly that they were shaking. It seemed clear that some terrible turmoil was ripping him apart from the inside out.
Cassandra ClareWhatโs that poem again?โ Will, who had been twirling his empty teacup around his fingers, stood up straight and declaimed: โEach spake words of high disdain, And insult to his heartโs best brotherโโ โOh, by the Angel, Will, do be quiet,โ said Charlotte, standing up. โI must go and write a letter to Aloysius Starkweather that drips remorse and pleading. I donโt need you distracting me.โ And, gathering up her skirts, she hurried from the room. โNo appreciation for the arts,โ Will murmured, setting his teacup down.
Cassandra Clare