Top 2177 Quotes & Sayings by Cassandra Clare - Page 4

Explore popular quotes and sayings by an American author Cassandra Clare.
Last updated on April 21, 2025.
You're the first Shadowhunter I've ever met." “That’s too bad,” said Jace, “since all the others you meet from now on will be a terrible letdown.
The thing about the Mirror is that no one knows where it is. In fact, no one knows what it is.” "It’s a mirror,” Simon said. “You know – reflective, glass. I’m just assuming.
Are you implying that shreds of my reputation remain intact?" Will demanded with mock horror. "Clearly I have been doing something wrong. Or not something wrong, as the case may be." He banged on the side of the carriage. "Thomas! We must away at once to the nearest brothel. I seek scandal and low companionship.
What happened to you?” Jace looked affronted. “What happened to me?” Alec shook him, not lightly. “You said you were going for a walk! What kind of walk takes six hours?” “A long one?” Jace suggested.
Another vampire pushed her way through the crowd to stand at his side—a pretty blue-haired Asian girl in a silver foil skirt. Clary wondered if there were any ugly vampires, or maybe any fat ones. Maybe they didn't make vampires out of ugly people. Or maybe ugly people just didn't want to live forever.
I was trying to make you jealous!" Simon screamed, right back. His hands were fisted at his sides. "You're so stupid, Clary. You're so stupid, can't you see anything?" She stared at him in bewilderment. What on earth did he mean? "Trying to make me jealous? Why would you try to do that?" She saw immediately that this was the worst thing she could have asked him. "Because," he said, so bitterly that it shocked her, "I've been in love with you for ten years, so I thought it seemed like the time to find out whether you felt the same about me. Which, I guess you don't.
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.
You serve a greater cause. Your life is not yours to throw away (Magnus Bane) — © Cassandra Clare
You serve a greater cause. Your life is not yours to throw away (Magnus Bane)
He seemed to realize she was staring at him, because the cursing stopped. "You cut me," he said. His voice was pleasant. British. Very ordinary. He looked at his hand with critcal interest. "It might be fatal." Tessa looked at him with wide eyes. "Are you the Magister?" He tilted his hand to the side. Blood ran down it, spattering the floor. "Dear me, massive blood loss. Death could be imminent.
You’re my sister,” he said finally. “My sister, my blood, my family. I should want to protect you”—he laughed soundlessly and without any humor—“to protect you from the sort of boys who want to do with you exactly what I want to do.
The law is hard but it is the law.
I stabbed you. With a massive sword. You caught on fire." His lips twitched, almost imperceptibly. "Okay, so maybe our problems aren't like other couples.
You mean you haven’t been going on romantic dates with Sebastian while you’ve been away from me?” “I tried,” Jace said, “but no matter how liquored up you get him, he just won’t put out.
You know what the worst thing I can imagine is? Simon had said. Not trusting someone I love.
Pretty soon the only people left without a girlfriend will be me and Wendell the school janitor, and he smells like windex." "At least you know he's still available.
I never cared,” he said. “I wanted you anyway. I always wanted you.
I believe in good and evil," said Jem. "And I believe the soul is eternal. But I don't believe in the fiery pit, the pitchforks, or endless torment. I do not believe you can threaten people into goodness." Tessa looked at will. "What about you? What do you believe? "Pulvis et umbra sumus," said Will, not looking at her as he spoke. "I believe we are dust and shadows. What else is there?
I have a fetish for damsels in distress.” “Don’t be sexist.” “Not at all. My services are also available to gentlemen in distress. It’s an equal opportunity fetish.
I can offer you my life, but it is a short life; I can offer you my heart, though I have no idea how many more beats it shall sustain — © Cassandra Clare
I can offer you my life, but it is a short life; I can offer you my heart, though I have no idea how many more beats it shall sustain
I can't believe he didn't have the dignity and presence of mind just to get drunk and pass out in some gutter," said Jace. "I must say, I'm disappointed in the little fellow.
Look, you can date whoever you want and I will totally support you. I am all about support. Support is my middle name.” “So that’s why you never told me your middle name. I figured it was something embarrassing.
Her name rang in Will's mind like the chime of a bell; he wondered if any other name on earth had such an inescapable resonance to it. She couldn't have been named something awful, could she, like Mildred. He couldn't imagine lying awake at night, staring up at the ceiling while invisible voices whispered 'Mildred' in his ears. But Tessa--
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.
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.
Dear me. Such harsh truths so early in the morning cannot be good for the digestion.
Words have the power to change us.
I've never seen anyone get so excited over books before. You'd think they were diamonds.
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.
In future, Clarissa," he said, "it might be wise to mention that you already have a man in your bed, to avoid such tedious situations." You invited him into bed?" Simon demanded, looking shaken. Ridiculous, isn't it?" said Jace. "We would never have all fit.
Let me give you a piece of advice. The handsome young fellow who's trying to rescue you from a hideous fate is never wrong. Not even if he says the sky is purple and made of hedgehogs.
And you won’t leave me?” “No.” Alec said. “No, we won’t ever leave you. You know that.” “Never.” Isabelle took his hand, the one Alec wasn’t holding, and pressed it fiercely. “Lightwoods, all together.” She whispered. Jace's hand was suddenly damp where she was holding it, and he realized she was crying, her tears splashing down crying for him, because she loved him; even after everything that had happened, she still loved him. They both did. He fell asleep like that, with Isabelle on one side of him and Alec on the other, as the sun came up with the dawn.
Flirting? We were merely indulging in a little risqué conversation," Magnus said, offended. "When I begin to flirt, I assure you the entire room will know. My flirtations cause sensations.
One must always be careful of books,' said Tessa, 'and what is inside them, for words have the power to change us.' 'I'm not sure a book has ever changed me,' said Will. 'Well there is one volume that promises to teach one how to turn oneself into an entire flock of sheep-' 'Only the very weak minded refuse to be influenced by literature and poetry,' said Tessa, determined not to let him run wildly off with the conversation.
Jem touched the parabatai rune on his shoulder, through the thin material of his nightshirt. "I am not alone," he said. "Wherever we are, we are as one.
When you find a man you wish to marry, Tessa, remember this: You will know what kind of man he is not by the things he says, but by the things he does.
That sounds terrific, thought Cary, just you, your comatose wife your shell-shocked son, and your daughter who hates your guts. Not to mention that your two kids may be in love with each other. Yeah, that sounds like a perfect family reunion.
Goodness, my nose is enormous,' she exclaimed. 'Why didn't anyone tell me?
Sometimes one must choose whether to be kind or honorable," he said. "Sometimes one cannot be both.
Your friend's poetry is terrible," he said. Clary blinked, caught momentarily off guard. "What?" "I said his poetry was terrible. It sounds like he ate a dictionary and started vomiting up words at random.
His fingers skimmed down her body, over skin and satin, and she shivered, leaning into him, and she was sure they both tasted like blood and ashes and salt, but it didn't matter; the world, the city, and all it's lights and life seemed to have narrowed down to this, just her and Jace, the burning heart of a frozen world.
He grinned. It was a wicked grin, the kind that made the blood in Clary's veins run a little faster. "You want to go on a date?" Caught off guard, she stammered. "A wh-what?" "A date," Jace repeated. "Often 'a boring thing you have to memorize in history class,' but in this case, 'an offering of an evening of blisteringly white-hot romance with yours truly." "Really?" Clary was not sure what to make of this. "Blisteringly white-hot?" "It's me," said Jace. "Watching me play Scrabble is enough to make most women swoon. Imagine if I actually put in some effort.
Nicely done, brother," said Gabriel from the bed, blinking sleepy green eyes at Gideon. Gideon threw a scone at him.
Suddenly reminded, she clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh- Simon!" "No, I'm Jace," he said patiently. "Simon is the weaselly little one with the bad haircut and dismal fashion sense.
I don’t think Will Herondale and a sense of responsibility are even on speaking terms — © Cassandra Clare
I don’t think Will Herondale and a sense of responsibility are even on speaking terms
Yes, she doesn't really look like either of us, does she? Perhaps she's a girl who's fallen madly in love with me and persists in following me wherever I go." "My talent is shape-shifting, Will, not acting," said Tessa, and at that Jem laughed out loud.
Are you in fashion? You look like you're in fashion." "No," [Magnus] said. "I am fashion.
I have a plan.” He groaned. “I was afraid of that.” “My plans are not terrible.” “Isabelle’s plans are terrible.” He pointed a finger at her. “Your plans are suicidal. At best.” She sat back, her arms crossed over her chest. “Do you want to hear it or not? You have to keep it a secret.” “I would pluck out my own eyes with a fork before I would give away your secrets,” Simon said, then looked anxious. “Wait a second. Do you think that’s likely to be required?
Did you just kiss me?" Will inquired. Magnus made a slip-second decision. "No." "I thought-" "On occasion the aftereffects of the painkilling spells can result in hallucinations of the most bizarre sort." "Oh," Will said. "How peculiar.
Weapons, when they break and are mended, can be stronger at the mended places. Perhaps hearts are the same.
I'm trying to figure out how someone could live in a brothel for a month and not notice. You must be terribly dull-witted." Tessa glared. "If it helps at all, it seemed to be quite a high-class establishment. Nicely furnished, fairly clean..." "Sounds as if you've visited your fair share of brothels," Tessa said, sourly. "Making a study of them?" "More of a hobby," said Will, and smiled like a bad angel.
Will: "Nice place to live, isn't it? Let's hope they left something behind other than filth. Forwarding addresses, a few severed limbs, a prostitute or two ..." Jem: "Indeed. Perhaps, if we're fortunate, we can still catch syphilis." "Or demon pox," Will suggested cheerfully, trying the door under the stairs.
Magnus hoped if he ever went mad like that himself, so mad that he poisoned the very air round him and hurt everyone he came into contact with, that there would be someone ho loved him enough to stop him. To kill him, if it came to that.
A Shadowhunter I believe you know send for me—Tatiana Blackthorn? The lady used to be a Lightwood, did she not?" Magnus turned to Will. "And your sister Cecily married her brother. Gilbert. Gaston. I have a shocking memory for Lightwoods." "I begged Cecily not to throw herself away on a Lightworm," Will muttered.
Memories did one no good, not when one knew the truth in the present — © Cassandra Clare
Memories did one no good, not when one knew the truth in the present
Well, I'd certainly hate to interrupt your pleasant night stroll with my sudden death." He blinked. "There is a fine line between sarcasm and outright hostility, and you seem to have crossed it. What's up?
Alec's trying to get Magnus to take him seriously, but he's never told our parents about Magnus, or even that he likes, you know -" "Warlocks ?" Simon said.
I am not the one of us who has no heart.
You're not going,"he said as soon as she'd finished. "If I have to tie you up and sit on you until this insane whim of yurs passes, you are not going to Idris." Clary felt as if he'd slapped her. She had thought he'd be pleased. She'd run all the way from the hospital to the Institute to tell him, and here he was standing in the entryway glaring at her with a look of grim death. "But you're going.
You couldnt erase everything that caused you pain with recollection.Every memory was valuable; even the bad ones
No one blames her." "That never matters," said Alec. "Not when you blame yourself.
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