Quotes Cassandra Clare - page 3

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His eyes shone when he looked at her, green as spring grass. He has always had green eyes, said the voice in her head. People often marvel at how much alike you are, he and your mother and yourself. His name is Jonathan and he is your brother; he has always protected you. Somewhere in the back of Clary’s mind she saw black eyes and whip marks, but she didn’t know why. He’s your brother. He’s your brother, and he’s always taken care of you.

His eyes shone when he looked at her, green as spring grass. He has always had green eyes, said the voice in her head. People often marvel at how much alike you are, he and your mother and yourself. His name is Jonathan and he is your brother; he has always protected you. Somewhere in the back of Clary’s mind she saw black eyes and whip marks, but she didn’t know why. He’s your brother. He’s your brother, and he’s always taken care of you.

Clary's mother apparently reguarded him as about as sexually threatening as a goldfish.

I would leave at once, but it would be cruel to abandon a lady in a foreign land with a maniac.

Why didn’t you wake me up?' 'I thought you could use the rest. Besides, you were sleeping like the dead. You even drooled,' he added. 'On my shirt.' Clary‘s hand flew to her mouth. 'Sorry.' 'Its not often you get to see someone drool,' Jace observed. 'Especially with such total abandon. Mouth wide open and everything.

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Izzy," said Jace, as they neared the pond, and she jumped up and spun around. Her smile was dazzling. "Jace!" She flew at him and hugged him. Now that was the way sisters were supposed to act, Clary thought. Not all stiff and weird and peculiar, but happy and loving. Watching Jace hug Isabelle, she tried to school her features into a happy and loving expression. "Are you all right?" Simon asked, with some concern. "Your eyes are crossing." "I'm fine." Clary abandoned the attempt. "Are you sure? You looked sort of… contorted.

I don't want tea," said Clary, with muffled force. "I want to find my mother. And then I want to find out who took her in the first place, and I want to kill them." "Unfortunately," said Hodge, "we're all out of bitter revenge at the moment, so it's either tea or nothing.

Clary, you're an artist, like your mother. That means you see the world in ways that other people don't. It's your gift, to see the beauty and the horror in ordinary things. It doesn't make you crazy — just different. There's nothing wrong with being different.

Never doubt my weaseling abilities, Shadowhunter, for they are epic and memorable in their scope.

Charlotte leaned forward across the table. The Dark Sisters never mentioned what use they intended to make of your abilities, did they? You know about the Magister. Tessa said. They said they were preparing me for him. For him to do what? Will asked. Eat you for dinner? Tessa shook her head. To – to marry me, they said. To marry you? Jessamine was openly scornful. That’s ridiculous. They were probably going to blood sacrifice you and didn’t want you to panic. (page 78)

And in some way, Clary thought, he meant it, meant his gratitude. He had long ago lost the ability to distinguish between force and cooperation, between fear and willingness, between love and torture. And with that realization came a rush of numbness—what was the point of hating Valentine for being a monster when he didn’t even know he was one?

And in some way, Clary thought, he meant it, meant his gratitude. He had long ago lost the ability to distinguish between force and cooperation, between fear and willingness, between love and torture. And with that realization came a rush of numbness—what was the point of hating Valentine for being a monster when he didn’t even know he was one?

No," said Simon. "I know we're not much compared to you, but we don't kill our friends. We try to save them. If Heaven didn't want it that way, we ought to have been given the ability to love." He shoved his hair back, baring the Mark more fully. "No, you don't need to help me. But if you don't, there's nothing stopping me from calling you up again and again, now that I know you can't kill me. Think of it as me leaning on you Heavenly doorbell... forever.

Well, there aren’t any graves in mundane wedding ceremonies, said Tessa. Though your ability to quote the Bible is impressive. Better than my aunt Harriet’s. Did you hear that, James? She just compared us to her aunt Harriet.

I'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.

You think she’ll be able to talk sense into him? she asked. His sister? "If he listens to anyone, it would be her. That’s sweet, said Maia. That he loves his sister like that. Yeah, Simon said. It’s precious

It's like banging my head against the wall, except if I were actually banging my head on a wall, I'd be able to make myself stop.

It was truly amazing, Clary thought, how much teenage boys were able to eat without ever gaining weight or making themselves sick. -pg.68-

He felt his heart, which no longer beat, contract, and he wondered if there was anything in the world as painful as not being able to protect the people you loved.

And second, keep in mind that you are a weapon. In theory, when you're done with training, you should be able to kick a hole in a wall or knock out a moose with a single punch." "I would never hit a moose," said Clary. "They're endangered.

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... everything seemed to him a uniform shade of gray- even the people! He had been unable to believe it could rain so much in one place, and so unceasingly. The damp had seemed to come up from the floors and into his bones, so that he\'d thought he would eventually sprout mold, in the manner of a tree. \

... everything seemed to him a uniform shade of gray- even the people! He had been unable to believe it could rain so much in one place, and so unceasingly. The damp had seemed to come up from the floors and into his bones, so that he'd thought he would eventually sprout mold, in the manner of a tree. "You do get used to it," he said "Even if sometimes you feel as if you out to be able to be wrung out like a washrag." p 311

Most human subjugates are young, said Will. Vampires like to acquire their subjugates when they’re youthful—prettier to look at, and less chance of diseased blood. And they’ll live a bit longer, though not much. He looked pleased with himself. Most of the rest of the Enclave wouldn’t be able to pass convincingly as a handsome young human subjugate— Because the rest of us all are hideous, are we? Jem inquired, looking amused.

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