A Quote by Cassandra Clare

It was only recently that Isabelle had realized other girls weren’t just for envying, avoiding, or disliking. — © Cassandra Clare
It was only recently that Isabelle had realized other girls weren’t just for envying, avoiding, or disliking.
The image I'd had of myself as a child was someone I'd never be, and it was only recently that I realized it was okay to be who I was. - Cat
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.
I remember being mad about having pink and red shoes. I gew up envying other girls' pink and red shoes.
I've been a story-teller all my life but I realized it only recently.
I have been a woman for 46 years and I only recently realized I can't change it and I like it.
I grew up around a whole bunch of girls, and one thing I realized is what they had on their plate was very different than what I had on mine. The things girls are made to be responsible for is a heavy burden - take care of your younger siblings, do good in school, have some extracurriculars. The pressure is intense.
He's always been absolutely gorgeous and had that charm, but he was in a steady relationship until quite recently, so it's only of late that all the girls are like, 'Oh my God, oh my God'.
Only recently have I realized that being different is not something you want to hide or squelch or suppress.
I've only recently realized that I have a radically different relationship with my parents than a lot of people.
Isabelle and Sebastian? Hardly. Sebastian’s a nice guy – Isabelle only likes dating thoroughly inappropriate boys our parents will hate. Mundanes, Downworlders, petty crooks…” “Thanks,” Simon said. “I’m glad to be classed with the criminal element.
Stop it." Isabelle tapped a booted foot in the shallow water at the lake's edge. "Both of you. In fact, all three of you. If we don't stick together in the Seelie Court, we're dead." "But I haven't-," Clary started. "Maybe you haven't, but the way you let those two act..." Isabelle indicated the boys with a disdainful wave of her hand. "I can't tell them what to do!" "Why not?" the other girl demanded. "Honestly, Clary, if you don't start utilizing a bit of your natural feminine superiority, I just don't know what I'll do with you.
I recently realized that I'm gender-fluid - I didn't even know that was a term until recently - but I have a strong effeminate side and identify with women in that way. Because women would make jokes and they were all really funny, but the straight male comics always said "faggot," or they had some really awful gay joke. And so it's like, I'm just going to watch the ladies because they don't - I'm sure there are, but I couldn't even tell you one woman comic that I've ever heard say the word "faggot."
I always thought I was depressive, and I only recently realized that I have more of an anxiety disorder than chronic depression.
Remember when you were a kid and the boys didn't like the girls? Only sissies liked girls? What I'm trying to tell you is that nothing's changed. You think boys grow out of not liking girls, but we don't grow out of it. We just grow horny. That's the problem. We mix up liking pussy for liking girls. Believe me, one couldn't have less to do with the other.
You know my girls are so funny. You're out in the country and there are critters everywhere and they get a little like, 'Oh my God! Oh no, bugs!' and I had to say, 'Honey this is fine. This is their world and it's all part of being in the country.' I realized, 'Oh my God, my girls are really city girls.'
I had many, many, many death threats. I couldn't open letters for a long time, because they all had to be opened by either the FBI or somebody. I couldn't open letters. I had to be escorted. In fact, just recently I went to a funeral, Calvin Wardlaw, who was the detective -- the policeman -- with me for two years, passed away just recently. He and I got to be bosom buddies really, but that was the hardest part. I wasn't able to enjoy -- you know.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!