About Cassandra Clare: Judith Rumelt is an American author of young adult fiction, best known for her bestselling series The Mortal Instruments.
She's alive," Thomas said, not opening his eyes. "What?" Will was caught off guard. "The one you come back for. Her. Tessa. She's with Sophie.
Am I blind?" Will's voice floated out of the darkness, tinged with annoyance. "I'm not going to be at all pleased if you've blinded me, Henry.
As for the temperature of Hell, Miss Gray,” he said, “let me give you a piece of advice. The handsome young fellow who’s trying to rescue you from a hideous fate is never wrong. Not even if he says the sky is purple and made of hedgehogs.” He...
It was Will who broke the silence. "Very well. You have me alone in the corrider-" "Yes, yes," said Tessa impatiently,"and thousands of women all over England would pay handsomely for the privilege of such an opportunity. Can we put aside the display...
You point your feet out too much when you walk,” Will went on. He was busy polishing an apple on his shirtfront, and appeared not to notice Tessa glaring at him. “Camille walks delicately. Like a faun in the woods. Not like a duck” “I do not ...
Then forget Gabriel. Is there a particular reason you keep biting vampires?” Will touched the dried blood on his wrists and smiled. “They don’t expect it.” “Of course they don’t. They know what happens when one of us consumes vampire bloo...
Will interrupted. "Henry," he said, "you're on fire. You do know that, don't you?
No. It is said that the Nephilim are the children of men and angels. All that this angelic heritage has given to us is a longer distance to fall.
There must have been something in her voice, because he turned to look at her. Her hand cracked across his face, a slap that rocked him back on his heels. He put his hand to his cheek, more in surprise than pain. "What the hell was that for?" "The ot...
What would you do if you saw something nobody else could see?” The tape gun fell out of Luke’s hand, and hit the tiled hearth. He knelt to pick it up, not looking at her. “You mean if I were the only witness to a crime, that sort of thing?” �...
Clary felt suddenly annoyed. "When the self-congratulatory part of the evening is over, maybe we could get back to saving my best friend from being exsanguinated to death?" "Exsanguinated," said Jace, impressed. "That's a big word." "And you're a big...
Isabelle was exactly Simon's type—tall, glamorous, and beautiful. Come to think of it, maybe that was everyone's type.
Haven't you ever heard that modesty is an attractive trait?" "Only from ugly people," Jace confided. "The meek may inherit the earth, but at the moment it belongs to the conceited. Like me." He winked at the girls, who giggled and hid behind their ha...
You can see where it was, years ago. Like an old woman who was once beautiful, but time has taken her beauty away.
To be beautiful you had to be willowy and tall. When you were as short as Clary was, just over five feet, you were cute. Not pretty or beautiful, but cute.
Jace?" "Yeah?" "How did you know I had Shadowhunter blood? Was there some way you could tell?" The elevator arrived with a final groan. Jace unlatched the gate and slid it open. The inside reminded Clary of a birdcage, all black metal and decorative ...
she glanced down and saw that a glove of blood covered her lower arm from the elbow to the wrist. The arm was throbbing, stiff, and painful. "Is this when you start tearing strips off your T-shirt to bind up my wound?" she joked. She hated the sight ...
How can you tell? That I like books, I mean. The look on your face when you walked in, somehow I doubted you were that impressed by me.
Don't order any of the faerie food," said Jace, looking at her over the top of his menu. "It tends to make humans a little crazy. One minute you're munching a faerie plum, the next minute you're running naked down Madison Avenue with antlers on your ...
Well, when was five, I wanted my mother to let me go around and around inside a dryer with the clothes,” Clary said. “The difference is, she didn’t let me.” “Probably because going around and around in a dryer can be fatal,” Jace pointed ...
If there were such a thing as terminal literalism, you'd have died in childhood.
