A Quote by Cassandra Clare

Just like an alley in New York -like every alley in the world, apparently- it smelled like cat pee. — © Cassandra Clare
Just like an alley in New York -like every alley in the world, apparently- it smelled like cat pee.
I love New York, but I don't like how it smells like hot pee and garbage in the summer. I feel like Chicago isn't that way. Maybe I'm just being romantic.
But my husband came from a small town and hardworking parents like I did, and I don't think we've lost that mind-set. We don't have a bowling alley in our basement. We don't have houses on the beach and one in New York and one in L.A.
The past scampers like an alley cat through the present, leaving the paw prints of memories scattered helter-skelter.
My stay in Camp Betty was the longest I'd been without drink or drugs in my adult life. [...] At first, they put me in a room with a guy who owned a bowling alley, but he snored like an asthmatic horse, so I moved and ended up with a depressive mortician. [...] The mortician snored even louder than the bowling alley guy - he was like a moose with a tracheotomy.
Just like I'm the king on the microphone, so is Dr. J and Moses Malone I like slam dunks, take me to the hoop my favorite play is the alley-oop I like the pick-and-roll, I like the give-and-go Cause it's basketball, uh, Mister Kurtis Blow.
I would still rather be in Silicon Alley. I like the West Coast also, but it's sort of fragmented. You have companies in downtown San Francisco, companies in Mountain View, and people are driving between them all. It's kind of nice in New York to just jump in a cab and reach another company so easily.
The place smelled of fairgrounds, of lazy crowds, of nights when you stayed out because you couldn't go to bed, and it smelled like New York, of its calm and brutal indifference.
Oh cat, I'd say, or pray: be-ootiful cat! Delicious cat! Exquisite cat! Satiny cat! Cat like a soft owl, cat with paws like moths, jewelled cat, miraculous cat! Cat, cat, cat, cat.
God sounds kinda like a shitty father to me. If God was so powerful why'd he have to give his son up? It sounds like God owed someone some money and they couldn't get to him, so they murked his son. That's what I really think happened. Jesus got stabbed up in an alley... but it's easier to sell crucifixes. You can't sell a pendant of someone getting shanked up In the alley. It's a marketing scheme.
I came up with myself. FAYZ. Spelled F-A-Y-Z. It stands for Fallout Alley Youth Zone. Fallout Alley, and nothing but kids." Howard laughed his mean laugh. "Don't worry, Astrid, it's just a FAYZ. Get it? Just a FAYZ.
I have to literally pinch myself every day, like, 'Oh my God, I'm in New York. I live in New York.' It's awesome, just like the energy.
For a moment he could have sworn he smelled violets, which was very peculiar, since he had no idea what violets smelled like, except somehow he knew they smelled just like Lady Emma.
I kinda feel like if I can do what I like in New York - and I like New York, I was born in New York, I have a lot more of a connection to New York - the hope is to stay in New York.
Go out and ask her into the alley.” Clay looked at Jeremy as if he’d just been told to dance the rumba on a public thoroughfare. I bit back a laugh. “Just walk over to her and point at the alley. Maybe say…I don’t know…something like ‘fifty bucks.’ ” I looked at Jeremy. “Does that sound right? Fifty?” His brows shot up. “Why are you asking me?” “I wasn’t—I just meant, as a general…” I threw up my hands. “How am I supposed to know how much a hooker costs?
What a Wonderful World' is a love song to nobody and everybody. I'm thinking about songs like that in my writing with 'Take Me to the Alley.'
I am a New Yorker. I like New York. And I like cities. And it's not my desire to make New York more suburban. I would personally just like to vet each person.
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