Cassandra Clare Quotes

You might want to lie down. I find that helps when the crushing sense of horrible realization sets in.

She was thinking of Simon, leaving for a house that no longer felt like home to him, of the despair in Jace's voice as he said I want to hate you, and of Magnus, not telling Jace the truth: that Alec did not want Jace to know about his relationship because he was still in love with him. She thought of the satisfaction it would have brought Magnus to say the words out loud, to acknowledge what the truth was, and the fact that he hadn't said them-had let Alec go on lying and pretending-because that was what Alec wanted, and Magnus cared about Alec enough to give him that. Maybe it was true what the Seelie Queen had said, after all: Love made you a liar.

I wish I could hate you. I want to hate you. I try to hate you. It would be so much easier if I did hate you. Sometimes I think I do hate you and then I see you and I-"
"And you what?"
"What do you think? Why should I tell you everything about how I feel when you never tell me anything. It's like banging my head on a wall, except at least if I were banging my head on a wall, I'd be able to make myself stop.

"Nothing," chorused Clary, Simon, Alec, Magnus, and Jace, in a surprising and probably never-to-be-repeated unison.

With Jace, you don't really get to choose your insulting nickname.

If you're calling me up just to chat, mundane, you must be lonelier than I thought.

What they had between them was still as fragile as a flickering candle flame, as delicate as eggshell - and he knew that if it shattered, if he somehow let it break and be destroyed, something inside him would shatter too, something that could never be fixed.

Here, I'll practice on you. Mom. I have something to tell you. I'm undead. Now, I know you may have some preconceived notions about the undead. I know you may not be comfortable with the idea of me being undead. But I'm here to tell you that the undead are just like you and me. Well, okay. Possibly more like me than you.

Because I foresee many romantic picnics in our future. You, drinking a virgin pina colada. Me, drinking the blood of a virgin.

I keep thinking about blood. I dream about it. Wake up thinking about it. Pretty soon I'll be writing morbid emo poetry about it.

How to Come Out to Your Parents," she read out loud. "LUKE. Don't be ridiculous. Simon's not gay, he's a vampire.

It was hard not to laugh. Determination like that in a ten-year-old is something to see. He was like a pit bull."
"If pit bulls wore glasses and were allergic to ragweed.

Look. In all the years I've known him, there's always been exactly one place Simon wanted to be, and he's always fought like hell to make sure he got there and stayed there."
"Where's that?"
"Wherever you were.

Oh, for goodness' sake, is he really waking us up at this ungodly hour just to prove his love to you or something?

It's not often you get to see someone drool. Especially with such total abandon. Mouth wide open and everything.