A Quote by Cassandra Clare

What’s your name, then? ”Tessa looked at him in disbelief. “What’s my name?” “Don’t you know it? — © Cassandra Clare
What’s your name, then? ”Tessa looked at him in disbelief. “What’s my name?” “Don’t you know it?
We humans have had from time unknown the compulsion to name things and thus to be able to deal with them. The name we give to something shapes our attitude toward it. And in ancient thought the name itself has power, so that to know someone's name is to have a certain power over him. And in some societies, as you know, there was a public name and a real or secret name, which would not be revealed to others.
If you use your own name as your business brand, keep in mind that if you lose that brand, you have lost your name. And that is a bit of a problem going forward in life. If you decide to make up a name, and if you have lost that name, then who cares. But when it is your name on the products, and you lose it, that is the game changer.
I do this a lot with names. I'll start with a name, and then for some reason he won't talk much, or he's older than I pictured him just because of a name I give him. So then I finally get the right name, and I can't shut the guy up. This always happens. There's always a character who gives me trouble that way.
My grandfather is from Ireland. His name is Florence McCarthy. He moved to New York in 1920. They used to beat him up because his name was Florence. He had to switch his name to Frank. And then this Christmas, he made an announcement - he goes, 'I'm switching me name back to Florence.' And we beat him up, 'cause it's a dumb name and he's old and weak and it was easy.
Your name?"The movements of the man's mouth didn't quite match what he was saying, so seeing him speak was a bit like watching a badly dubbed film. "Alex Gardiner," Alex said. "Your real name?" "I just told you." "You lied. Your real name is Alex Rider." "Why ask if you think you know?
Whenever I've had a problem with any female in this entire game, I will say your name... I'm going to say your government. I'm going to look it up. I'm going to say your mother's name, your father's name, your kid's name. I want you to know that I'm talking about you.
A name is important. It isn't something you drop in the litter basket or on the ground. Your name is now people know you. The very mention of your name makes a picture spring to mind, whether it's a picture of clashing fists or a mighty mountain that can't be knocked down. Your name is who you are and how you're known even when you do something great or something dumb.
Jesus Your name is a shelter for the hurting, Your name is a refuge for the weak, only Your name can redeem the undeserving, Jesus Your name holds everything I need.
We always looked forward to playing Aston Villa to hear him mangle Ugo Ehiogu's name. "Make sure you pick up Ehugu, Ehogy, whatever his name is."
I know of a world that is sunk in shame, Where hearts oft faint and tire; But I know of a Name, a precious Name, That can set that world on fire: Its sound is sweet, its letters flame. I know of a Name, a precious Name, 'Tis Jesus.
Names are still magic; even Sharon, Karen, Darren, and Warren are magic to somebody somewhere. In fairy stories, naming is knowledge. When I know your name, I can call your name, and when I call your name, you'll come to me.
The name is not important anymore - it's the tone that counts. I feel like an old dog I know. He will come to any name you call him, just so long as your demeanor carries with it the promise of affection and food
I'm saying your name in the grocery store, I'm saying your name on the bridge at dawn. Your name like an animal covered with frost, your name like a music that's been transposed, a suit of fur, a coat of mud, a kick in the pants, a lungful of glass, the sails in wind and the slap of waves on the hull.
I'm from New Orleans, and I have a French last name - although I have no real relationship with my last name because it's not my name. I don't know my name.
When you go to work, if your name is on the building, you're rich. If your name is on your desk, you're middle class. And if your name is on your shirt, you're poor.
It was only then I realized I didn't know the name of Elodin's class. I leafed through the ledger until I spotted Elodin's name, then ran my finger back to where the title of the class was listed in fresh dark ink: "Introduction to Not Being a Stupid Jackass." I sighed and penned my name in the single blank space beneath.
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