A Quote by Cassandra Clare
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.
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And what colour do you suppose the inner depths of your soul are, Will Herondale?' 'Mauve,' said Will.
[Jem] looked from Will to Tessa and raised his silvery eyebrows. "A miracle," he said. "You got him to speak." "Just to shout at me, really," said Tessa. "Not quite loaves and fishes.
Miss Cecily," she gasped, and then her eyes went to Will. She clapped a hand over her mouth, turned, and bolted back into the house. "Oh, dear," said Tessa. "I have that effect on women," Will said. " I probably should have warned you before you agreed to marry me." "I can still change my mind," Tessa said sweetly. "Don't you dare-," he began with a breathless half laugh.
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?
Dear God,” said Will, looking from Charlotte to Nate and back again. “Is there anything that makes women sillier than the sight of a wounded young man?” Tessa slitted her eyes at him. “You might want to clean the rest of the blood of your face before you continue arguing in that vein.” Will threw his arms up in the air and stalked off. Charlotte looked at Tessa, a half smile curving the side of her mouth. “I must say, I rather like the way you manage Will.” Tessa shook her head. “No one manages Will.
Mr. Branwell and Mr. Carstairs seem to have no problem cleaning their boots,” Sophie said, looking darkly from Will to Tessa. “Perhaps you could learn from their example.” “Perhaps,” said Will. “But I doubt it.” Sophie scowled, and started off along the corridor again, her shoulders tightly set with indignation. Tessa looked at Will in amazement. “What was that?” Will shrugged lazily. “Sophie enjoys pretending she doesn’t like me.” “Doesn’t like you? She hates you!
Well,” Tessa said, sighting along the line of the knife, “you behave as if you dislike me. In fact, you behave as if you dislike us all.” “I don’t,” Gabriel said. “I just dislike him.” He pointed at Will. “Dear me,” said Will, and he took another bite of his apple. “Is it because I’m better-looking than you?
He looked at her levelly. There was something in his eyes, a sort of quizzical admiration; she wondered if it was simply admiration of Jessamine’s looks. “No,” he said. “No, even though you are the perfect picture of Jessamine, I can see Tessa through it somehow as if, if I were to scrape away a layer of paint, there would be my Tessa underneath.” “I am not your Tessa either.” The light sparkling in his eyes dimmed. “Fair enough,” he said. “I suppose you are not.
Tessa was only half way down the corridor when they caught up to her -Will and Jem, walking on either side of her. "you didn't really think we weren't going to come along, did you?" Will asked, raising his hand and letting his witchlight fare up between his fingers, lighting the corridor to daylight brightness. Charlotte, hurrying along ahead of them, turned and frowned, but said nothing. "I know you can't leave anything well alone," Tessa replied, looking straight ahead. "But I though better of Jem." "Where Will goes, I go," Jem said good-naturedly. "And besides, I'm as curious as he is.
Say something in Mandarin,” said Tessa, with a smile. Jem said something that sounded like a lot of breathy vowels and consonants run together, his voice rising and falling melodically: “Ni hen piao liang.” “What did you say?” Tessa was curious. “I said your hair is coming undone — here,” he said, and reached out and tucked an escaping curl back behind her ear. Tessa felt the blood spill hot up into her face, and was glad for the dimness of the carriage. “You have to be careful with it,” he said, taking his hand back, slowly, his fingers lingering against her cheek.
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.
Oh, leave it,” said Jem, kicking Will, not without affection, lightly on the ankle. “She’s annexed my plan!” “Will,” Tessa said firmly. “Do you care more about the plan being enacted or about getting credit for it?” Will pointed a finger at her. “That,” he said. “The second one.
Will looked up in apparent relief when Charlotte and Tessa came in. "Will," Charlotte said, "You remember Miss Gray?" "My recollection of her," said Will, "is most vivid indeed.
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.
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)
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.
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