A Quote by Cassandra Clare

Demon pox,' said Will with the satisfaction of the truly vindicated. — © Cassandra Clare
Demon pox,' said Will with the satisfaction of the truly vindicated.
Demon Pox, oh, Demon Pox Just how is it acquired? One must first go to the bad part of town Until one is very tired Demon Pox, oh, Demon Pox I had it all along- No, not the pox, you foolish blocks I meant this very song- For i was right, and you were wrong!
And maybe it would have bitten you in half," said Will. "What you are describing, the transformation into a demon, is the last stage of the pox." "Will!" Charlotte threw up her hands. "Why didn't you say so?" "You know, the books on demon pox are in the library," Will said with an injured tone. "I wasn't preventing anyone from reading them." "Yes, but if Benedict was going to turn into an enormous serpent, you'd think you could at least have mentioned it," said Charlotte. "As a matter of general interest.
Will: Have you ever seen what happens to someone with demon pox? First it lies dormant. One begins to turn yellow and green. Then the swelling sets in - Jem: THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS DEMON POX.
Astriola. That IS demon pox. You had evidence that demon pox existed and you didnt mention it to me! Et tu, Brute!' He rolled up the paper and hit Jem over the head with it.
Gabriel’s green eyes sought Will. “It was demon pox, wasn’t it? You know all about it, don’t you? Aren’t you some sort of expert?” “Well, you needn’t act as if I invented it,” said Will.
Will!" Charlotte threw up her hands. "Why didn't you say so?" "You know, the books on demon pox are in the library," Will said with an injured tone. "I wasn't preventing anyone from reading them
Demon pox. There's always demon pox.
Forsooth, I no longer toil in vain, To prove that demon pox warps the brain. So though 'ti pity, it's not in vain That the pox-ridden worm was slain: For to believe in me, you all must deign.
Demon pox," said Sophie. "Mr. Lightwood's got it, has had for years, and it'll kill him in a right couple of months if he doesn't get the cure. And Mortmain said he can get it for him." The room exploded in a hubbub. Charlotte raced over to Sophie; Henry called after her; Will leaped from his chair and was dancing in a circle.
I was just thinking of bundling up Cecily and feeding her to the ducks at Hyde Park," said Will, pushing his wet hair back and favoring Jem with a rare smile. "I could use your assistance." "Unfortunately, you may have to delay your plans for suicide a bit longer. Gabriel Lightwood is downstairs, and I have two words for you. Two of your favorite words, at least when you put them together." "'Utter simpleton'?" inquired Will. "'Worthless upstart'?" Jem grinned. "'Demon pox,'" he said.
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.
Their grandchildren had reminded Will of the song about demon pox he had taught them- when they were much too young, Tessa had always thought- and that they had all memorized. They sang it all together and out of tune, scandalizing Sophie.
Do you who are a Christian desire to be revenged and vindicated, and the death of Jesus Christ has not yet been revenged, nor His innocence vindicated?
It is a common failing of childhood to think that if one makes a hero out of a demon the demon will be satisfied.
Warlock,” he said. “I know who you are.” Magnus raised his eyebrows. “You do?” “Magnus Bane. Destroyer of the demon Marabas. Son of—” “Now,” said Magnus, quickly. “There’s no need to go into all of that.” “But there is.” The demon sounded reasonable, even amused. “If it is infernal assistance you require, why not summon your father?” Alec looked at Magnus with his mouth open.
He is haunted by a demon, a demon against which he feels powerless, because in its first manifestation it has no face, no name, nothing; and the words, the poem he makes, are a kind of exorcism of this demon.
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