Cassandra Clare - Clary Quotes

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The dark prince sat astride his black steed, his sable cape flowing behind him. A golden circlet bound his blond locks, his handsome face was cold with the rage of battle, and... "And his arm looked like an eggplant," Clary muttered to herself in exasperation.

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"So you decided to help us by killing the guy we were talking to?" Clary demanded "Because you thought he had a shady past? Who - who does that? It doesn't make any sense."

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The horse grunted softly. He had huge teeth, Clary noticed uneasily; each one the size of a Pez dispenser. She imagined those teeth sinking into her leg and thought of all the girls she'd known in middle school who'd wanted ponies of their own. She wondered if they were insane.

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There is that. I might have better luck telling him I'm in love with him. Jace thinks everyone's in love with him anyway. But I, said Clary, actually am.

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Were you ever actually going to leave New York, or were you just saying that to get her to finally make a move? Clary, said Luke, I am shocked that you would suggest such a thing.

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Yes," Jace said, "I regret having disobeyed you." No! Clary thought, but her heart sank. Was he giving up, did he think it was the only way to save her and Simon? Valentine's face softened. "Jonathan-" "Especially," Jace said, "since I plan to do it again. Right now.

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Magnus, standing by the door, snapped his fingers impatiently. "Move it along, teenagers. The only person who gets to canoodle in my bedroom is my magnificent self." "Canoodle?" repeated Clary, never having heard the word before. "Magnificent?" repeated Jace, who was just being nasty. Magnus growled. The growl sounded like "Get out.

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"Everything we need to know is locked up in your head, under those pretty red curls." Clary reached up to touch her hair protectively. "I don't think-" "So what are you going to do?" Simon asked sharply. "Cut her head open to get at it?"

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Clary wondered how many boyfriends she'd turned into rats by accident.

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Do you think she'll catch him before he gets to the hall? My mom's spent her whole life chasing me around, Clary said. She moves fast.

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Simon kept pace beside Clary for a few moments without speaking before he said, So what did I miss? Naked dancing ladies? Clary thought of the male faerie's torn-open ribs and shuddered. Nothing that pleasant.

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It's not gray," Clary felt compelled to point out. "It's green." "If there was such a thing as terminal literalism, you'd have died in childhood," said Jace.

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When Jace opened the greenhouse door, the scent hit Clary, soft as the padded blow of a cat's paw...

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Some burns," Clary said. "Nothing that matters" "Everything that happens to you matters to me." "Well that certainly explains why you haven't called me back once. And the last time I saw you, you ran away without telling me why. It's like dating a ghost." Jace's mouth quirked up slightly at the side. "Not exactly. Isabelle actually dated a ghost. She could tell you—" "No," Clary said. "It was a metaphor. And you know exactly what I mean.

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Where's Magnus?" he said. AS he looked toward the kitchen, Clary saw a bruise on his jaw, below his ear, about the size of a thumbprint. "Alec!" Magnus came skidding into the living room and blew a kiss to his boyfriend across the room. Having discarded his slippers, he was barefoot now. His cat's eyes shone as he looked at Alec.

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Demon hunting and fashion," Clary said. "I never would have thought they went together.

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You guessed? You must have been pretty sure, considering you could have killed me." "I was ninety percent sure." "I see," Clary said. 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 hands on his cheek, more in surprise than pain. "What the hell was that for?" "The other ten percent.

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Clary closed her eyes. Remembering the way Jace had looked at her the night she'd freed Ithuriel, she couldn't help but imagine the way he'd look at her now if he saw her trying to lie down to die on the sand beside him. He wouldn't be touched, wouldn't think it was a beautiful gesture. He'd be angry at her for giving up. He'd be so—disappointed.

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You know," Clary said, "most psychologists agree that hostility is really just sublimated sexual attraction.

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Clary made fun of him about his new look; but, then, Clary found everything about Simon's love life borderline hilarious.

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Like letting spiders live because they eat mosquitoes, Clary thought. "So they're good enough to let live, good enough to make your food for you, good enough to flirt with-but not really good enough? I mean, not as good as people.

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If you don't go after Luke, Clary said, enunciating very clearly, I, personally, will kill you. For a moment Jocelyn looked astonished. Then she smiled. Well, she said, if you put it like that.

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Clary," Jace said again. "You know: short, redheaded, bad temper.

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Clary stopped dead in her tracks. "Simon?" "Oh, God," said Jace, sounding resigned. "And here I'd actually hoped I'd got hold of something interesting."

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Magnus looked at her meditatively. 'I think,' he said, 'there isn't much that Jace wouldn't do for you, if you asked him.' Clary opened her mouth and then shut it again. She thought of the way Magnus had always seemed to know how Alec felt about Jace, how Simon felt about her. Her feelings for Jace must be written on her face even now, and Magnus was an expert reader. She glanced away.

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Only Jace, Clary thought, could look cool in pajama bottoms and an old T-shirt, but he pulled it off, probably through sheer force of will.

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Clary grinned. "A picnic? It's a little late for Central Park, don't you think? It's full of-" He waved a hand. "Faeries. I know." "I was going to say muggers," said Clary. "Though I pity the mugger who goes after you." "That is a wise attitude, and I commend you for it," said Jace, looking gratified.

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Magnus got to his feet. I do believe that's my cue to leave as well, he said. Clary noticed he was avoiding looking at Alec. I'd say it's been nice meeting you all, but, in fact, it hasn't. It's been quite awkward, and frankly, the next time I see a single one of you will be far too soon.

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Clary, you're an artist, like your mother. That means you see the world in ways that other people don't. It's your gift, to see the beauty and the horror in ordinary things. It doesn't make you crazy — just different. There's nothing wrong with being different.

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Jordan doesn't really care about the blood," Simon said now. "His whole thing is about me being comfortable with what I am. Get in touch with your inner vampire, blah, blah." Clary slid in next to him onto the bed and hugged a pillow. "Is your inner vampire different from your...outer vampire?" "Definitely. He wants me to wear midriff-baring shirts and a fedora. I'm fighting it." Clary smiled faintly. "So your inner vampire is Magnus?

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