He held her close enough to kiss, close enough to whisper the most important secrets in the world, and he spoke to her as he would have wanted some good angel to speak to his family, to his own shivering young soul, long ago and in a land far away.
Magnus did not take such suffering lightly, but even mortals did not die of broken hearts. No matter how cruel Grace had been, he told himself, James would heal. Even though he was a Herondale.
Having rock-star problems may be the closest I ever get to being an actual rock star.
Because in the end nothing is worse than seeing the fall of one you loved. It was somehow worse than losing a love. It made everything seem questionable. It made the past bitter and confused.
I would die for you. You know that. I would die without you. If it were not for you, I would be dead a hundred times over these past five years.
I was Marked by a very cute boy with terrible impulse control. I don’t remember because I was basically unconscious but everyone was mad at him when I woke up. The end, love Clary.
Sometimes the newly Marked go into shock. The good news is, if this happens to you, you are unlikely to notice, because you will be in shock.
Clary: “Aren’t they supposed to be hiring someone else to train me full-time anyway?”
Creating characters is like throwing together ingredients for a recipe. I take characteristics I like and dislike in real people I know, or know of, and use them to embellish and define characters.
So I lied to you last night. I said I just wanted one night with you. But I want every night with you. And that’s why I have to slip out of your window now, like a coward. Because if I had to tell you this yo your face, I couldn’t make myself go.
You know men. We have delicate egos.
Heroes aren’t always the ones who win. They’re the ones who lose, sometimes. But they keep fighting, they keep coming back. They don’t give up. That’s what makes them heroes.
Weapons, when they break and are mended, can be stronger at the mended places. Perhaps hearts are the same.
Perfect heroines, like perfect heroes, aren’t relatable, and if you can’t put yourself in the protagonist’s shoes, not only will they not inspire you, but the book will be pretty boring.
We are all the pieces of what we remember. We hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss.
I’m not a man. I have no male pride for you to trick me with, and I am not interested in single combat. That is entirely a weakness of your sex, not mine. I am a woman. I will use any weapon and all weapons to get what I want.
You’re a reader as well as a writer, so write what you’d want to read.
I hate ducks. Don’t know why. I just always have.
It is a far greater thing that I do now, than I’ve ever done before.
Books will always be there for you.