Cassandra Clare Quotes

Will pointed a finger accusingly in their direction. "You're ganging up on me. Is this how it's going to be from now on? I'll be the odd man out? Dear God, I'll have to befriend Jessamine." "Jessamine can't stand you," Jem pointed out. "Henry, then." "Henry will set you on fire.

Sarcasm is the last refuge of the imaginatively bankrupt.

You're gorgeous," she said. Her hands slid around to flatten themselves against his chest. "You know that right?" "And I just don't care," she says "Isabelle, I don't think-Wait, What?

I don’t think Will Herondale and a sense of responsibility are even on speaking terms

Break a leg up there, and I'll be down here hopefully breaking someone elses.

Like letting spiders live because they eat mosquitoes, Clary thought. "So they're good enough to let live, good enough to make your food for you, good enough to flirt with-but not really good enough? I mean, not as good as people.

Hello?" Isabelle called from the other side. "Simon, is your diva moment over? I need to talk to Jace.

I thought perhaps that when you told me you did not love me that my own feelings would fall away and atrophy, but they have not. They have grown every day. I love you now more desperately, this moment, than I have ever loved you before, and in an hour I will love you more than that

True love cannot die,'" Will said, translating the inscription on the back in the light from the corridor. "I can't wear this, Magnus. It's too pretty for a man." "So are you. Go home and clean yourself up. I will call upon you as soon as I have information." He looked at Will keenly. "In the meantime do your best to be worthy of my assistance.

To my son, If you are reading this letter, then I am dead.

I always thought that eventually there would be a moment where I realized that I had practiced enough and now I was ready to be a professional writer. Then I befriended a number of successful professional writers and realized that none of them ever felt ready. After that I decided I might as well stop waiting to feel ready and just get started.

He's a cousin of some friends of the Lightwoods or something. He's nice. I promise." "Nice, bah. He's gorgeous." Magnus gazed dreamily in his direction. "You should leave him here. I could hang hats on him and things." "No. You can't have him." "Why not? Do you like him?" Magnus's eyes gleamed. "He seems to like you. I saw him going for your hand out there like a squirrel diving for a peanut.

Gideon touched her cheek, lightly, with the tips of his fingers. “Did you know your name means ‘wisdom’? It was very well-given.

Hugo is a raven,and, as such he knows many things. I, meanwhile, am Hodge Starkweathe, a professor of history, as such, I do not know nearly enough.

I think you'll find that one would be self-defeating." Jace said lightly shoving his feet into his boots. "We are bound, he and I. Cut him and I bleed.

You could know a man not by what his friends said about him, but by how he treated his servants.

Warlock,” he said. “I know who you are.” Magnus raised his eyebrows. “You do?” “Magnus Bane. Destroyer of the demon Marabas. Son of—” “Now,” said Magnus, quickly. “There’s no need to go into all of that.” “But there is.” The demon sounded reasonable, even amused. “If it is infernal assistance you require, why not summon your father?” Alec looked at Magnus with his mouth open.

And who are all these people? There weren't this many when I fell asleep." Alfie shrugged, indicating that the universe was mysterious and nothing would ever be fully understood.

You serve a greater cause. Your life is not yours to throw away (Magnus Bane)

It is not easy to be different, and even less so to be unique.

I get a lot of inspiration from research in mythology and folklore, I find that stories people told each other thousands of years ago are still relevant now.

There's nothing you could have done that would cause me to cease loving either of you. Will is myself, my own soul, and if I am not to have the keeping of your heart, then there is not other I would rather have that honor.

My favorite jacket is an emergency item. Much like myself, it is both snuggly and fashionable.

I would give you everything of myself. I would give you more in two weeks than most men would give you in a lifetime.

Are you going to wolf out and eat me now?" "Certainly not, you'd be stringy and hard to digest." "But kosher." "I'll be sure to point any Jewish lycanthropes in your direction.

the action we take in the name of love,those are moral or immoral.and normally it wouldn't matter

Don’t take this the wrong way, but you smell like Magnus.

I was just thinking of bunding up Cecily and feeding her to the ducks in Hyde Park," said Will, pushing his wet hair back and favoring Jem with a rare smile.

If no one in the entire world cared about you, did you really exist at all?

They’re not hideous,” said Tessa. Will blinked at her. “What?” “Gideon and Gabriel,” said Tessa. “They’re really quite good-looking, not hideous at all.” “I spoke,” said Will, in sepulchral tones, “of the pitch-black inner depths of their souls.” Tessa snorted. “And what color do you suppose the inner depths of your soul are, Will Herondale?” “Mauve,” said Will.

Change is not always accomplished peacefully, but that does not make it disadventageous.

She saw Valentine's eyes as the sword hurtled toward her; it seemed like eons, though it could only have been a split second. She saw that he could stop the blow if he wanted. Saw that he knew it might well strike her if he didn't. Saw that he was going to do it anyway.

Clary stopped wondering about peanut-fish-olive-tomato soup and started wondering what would happen if she dumped the contents of the pot on Isabelle’s head.

It is a very strange thing, to be in love. It changes you.

Just remember, when your mother’s gnawing my ankle like a furious mama bear separated from her cum, I did it for you.

I am stronger when Tessa is here, you see. I told it to you," said Jem, still in the same soft voice. At that, Will did duck his head so that Tessa could not see his eyes. "I see it," he said.

Jace flushed a slow, dark red. "It's not like that. If I thought it would help the Clave-but it won't. She'll just get hurt-" "Even if you thought it would help the Clave", Simon said, "you'd never let them have her." "What makes you say that, vampire?" "Because no one can have her but you"said Simon

Vampires bore a grudge longer than any technically living creatures, and whenever they were in a bad temper, they expressed themselves through murder.

It was strange how your world could shift on its axis and everything you trusted could invert itself in what seemed like no time at all.

Words were weapons, his father had taught him that, and he'd wanted to hurt Clary more than he'd ever wanted to hurt any girl. In fact, he wasn't sure he had ever wanted to hurt a girl before. Usually he just wanted them, and then he wanted them to leave him alone.

He'd burn the whole world down til he could dig out you of the ashes.

There is nothing quite like the moral absolutism of the young." -Hodge

She threw the door open. The room seemed to be a sort of library, the walls lined with books. It was brightly lit, light streaming through a tall picture window. In the middle of the room stood Jace. He wasn't alone, though-not by a long shot. There was a dark-haired girl with him, a girl Clary had never seen before, and the two of them were locked together in a passionate embrace

But that's what you're doing, isn't it? You're part of the fight just as much as the Shadowhunters on the ship—and I know you can take some of my strength, I've heard of warlocks doing that—so I'm offering. Take it. It's yours.

Years later Magnus would return to London and Camille Belcourt's side, and find it not all that he had dreamed. Years later another desperate Herondale boy with blue, blue eyes would come to his door, shaking with the cold of the rain and his own wretchedness, and this one Magnus would be able to help.

In Paris one could have the eyes of a cat (as he did) and tell people it was a trick of fashion.

Alec would have said he could have benefited from a bit more in the way of constructive cowardice.

Why, oh why, had Jace picked a fight with a pack of wolves? What had possessed him? Then again, it was Jace. He'd pick a fight with a Mack truck if the urge took him. -Clary, pg.40-