Cassandra Clare Quotes

Reparations,” said Jem very suddenly, setting down the pen he was holding.
Will looked at him in puzzlement. “Is this a game? We just blurt out whatever word comes next to mind? In that case mine is ‘genuphobia’. It means an unreasonable fear of knees.”
“What’s the word for a perfectly reasonable fear of annoying idiots?” inquired Jessamine.

"Even the Inquisitor's eyebrows shot up when Magnus strode through the gate. The High Warlock was wearing black leather pants, a belt with a buckle in the shape of a jeweled M, and a cobalt-blue Prussian military jacket open over a white lace shirt. He shimmered with layers of glitter. His gaze rested for a moment on Alec's face with amusement and a hint of something else before moving on to Jace, prone on the ground.
"Is he dead?" he inquired. "He looks dead."
"No," snapped Maryse. "He's not dead."
"Have you checked? I could kick him if you want." Magnus moved toward Jace.
"Stop that!" the Inquisitor snapped, sounding like Clary's third-grade teacher demanding that she stop doodling on her desk with a marker."

"So what was that all about?"
"I think," Jace said, "that she asked if she could touch my mango."
"She said that?"
Jace shrugged. "Yeah, then she gave me her number."

"And to the devil with it if she is!" said the Consul. "One girl, who is not Nephilim, is not, cannot, be our priority."

"She is my priority!" Will shouted.

The way he looked at you. I got it then. He loved you, and it was killing him. He won't get over you, Clary, he can't.

I have a high pain threshold. In fact, it's more of a large and tastfully decorated foyer than a threshold. But I do get easily bored

It’s fascinating. You know all these words, and they’re all English, but when you string them together into sentences, they just don’t make any sense.

"We're not dating," Alec said again.
"Oh?" Magnus said. "So you're just that friendly with everybody, is that it?"

"It's too late," she said.
"Don't say that." His voice was half a whisper. "I love you, Tessa. I love you."

Drowning yourself won't help, she told herself sternly. Now, drowning Will, on the other hand...

And next time you're planning to injure yourself to get me attention, just remember that a little sweet talk works wonders.

Will rose slowly to his feet. He could not believe he was doing what he was doing, but it was clear that he was, clear as the silver rim around the black of Jem’s eyes. “If there is a life after this one,” he said, “let me meet you in it, James Carstairs.”

“There will be other lives.” Jem held his hand out, and for a moment, they clasped hands, as they had done during their parabatai ritual, reaching across twin rings of fire to interlace their fingers with each other. “The world is a wheel,” he said. “When we rise or fall, we do it together.”

Will tightened his grip on Jem’s hand, which felt thin as twigs in his. “Well, then,” he said, through a tight throat, “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.

I did not make a pie,” Alec repeated, gesturing expressively with one hand, “for three reasons. One, because I do not have any pie ingredients. Two, because I don’t actually
know how to make a pie.”
He paused, clearly waiting.
Removing his sword and leaning it against the cave wall, Jace said warily, “And three?”
“Because I am not your bitch,” Alec said, clearly pleased with himself.

I was alive when the Dead Sea was just a lake that was feeling a little poorly.

Jem is nothing but goodness. That he struck you last night only shows how capable you are of driving even saints to madness.