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.
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.
Clary made fun of him about his new look; but, then, Clary found everything about Simon's love life borderline hilarious.
Is this the part where you tell me you're secretly in love with me? Vampire mojo strikes again.
Why is it, little Shadowhunter, that your angels are so cold and without mercy? Why do they break that which will not obey them?
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.
If I'd just listened-just taken one second to listen-it wouldn't have happened
Now I wonder all the time how you go back after something like that. Whether we can ever be friends again, or if what we had is broken into pieces. Not because of her, but because of me.
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.
You're a disaster for us, Clary! You're a mundane, you'll always be one, you'll never be a Shadowhunter! You don't know how to think like we do, think about what's best for everyone-- all you think about is yourself! But there's a war now, or there will be, and I don't have time or the inclination to follow around after you, trying to make sure you don't get us killed! Go home, Clary. Go home!
He was still stroking the inside of her wrist, his touch doing odd delicious things to her skin and nerves.
Look at him. The face of a bad angel and eyes like the night sky in Hell. He's very pretty, and vampires like that. I can't say I mind either.
There was a man who was worthless, and knew he was worthless, and yet however far down he tried to sink his soul, there was always some part of him capable of great action.
I am not the one of us who has no heart.
She unwrapped the blanket when she came in my door. You were inside it. She set you down on the floor and you started ranging around, picking things up, pulling my cat's tail-you screamed like a banshee when the cat scratched you, so I asked your mother if you were part banshee. She didn't laugh.
To love is to destroy and that to be love is the one destroyed
Do you have a lot of other profound thoughts like that? Blood is blood? A toaster is a toaster? A Gelatinous Cube is a Gelatinous Cube?
Jealousy is such an ugly emotion.
You always find the right quote, or the right thing to say to make me believe you love me.
Crying wouldn't help anything now.
If you lay one hand on Simon, vampire, I'll have you chopped up into tiny pieces and fed to my cat. Understand?
Regret is such a pointless emotion, don't you agree?
The Law is hard, but it is the Law.
Anger, Tessa thought, was satisfying in its own way, when you gave in to it. There was something gratifying about shouting in a blind rage until your words ran out.
He was the one she was doing all this for, but sometimes she missed him so much it felt like she swallowed broken glass.
Looking for an entirely reliable informant is like looking for a chaste mistress.
There was a time I thought I was a ferret.
I could not tell you if I loved you the first moment I saw you, or if it was the second or third or fourth. But I remember the first moment I looked at you walking toward me and realized that somehow the rest of the world seemed to vanish when I was with you.
Somehow he managed to look cool despite the heat. It made Clary want to smack him.
To love is to destroy and to be loved is to the one destoyed
Don't bother her, don't try to talk to her, don't even look at her, or I'll fold you in half so many times you'll look like a tiny little origami werewolf.
Luke moved as silently as fog, while Maryse's heels sounded like gunshots on the marble floor. Clary wondered if Isabelle's propensity for unsuitable footwear was genetic.
You can't forget the things you did in the past, or you'll never learn from them.
Dead bodies didn't resemble unconscious ones; it was as if you could sense that something had fled from them, that some essential spark was now missing.
I'm a man, and men do not consume pink beverages. Get thee gone, woman, and bring me something brown...brown is a manly color.
Shadowhunters were brought up to handle anything, weren't they?
The Silent brothers are doing nude cartwheels in the hallways
Beauty fades, but cooking is eternal.
He was wearing a look that she found odd and compelling - that amusement that didn't seem to pass beyond the surface of his features, as he found everything in the world both infinitely funny and infinitely tragic all at the same time.
Many who have gazed upon me have compared the experience to gazing at the radiance of the sun.
There's plenty of sense in nonsense sometimes, if you wish to look for it.
I shall charm him with such force that when I am done, he will be left lying limply on the ground, trying to remember his own name.
Sorry, are you telling me that your demon-slaying buddies need to be driven to their next assignment with the forces of darkness by my mom?
To love it to destroy and to be loved is to be the one destroyed.
Eternity is a long time to spend alone, without others of your kind.
Maryse sighed."Nothing conclusive.If only the dead could talk,eh,Lucian?
You know, when someone prefers their own brother over you, it isn't a confidence booster.
Did you ever think that in a past life Alec was an old woman with ninety cats who was always yelling at the neighborhood kids to get off her lawn? Because I do,
I'm tired of watching you be in love with someone else someone who will never love you back, not the way I do.
She could ask for anything, she thought dizzily, anything--an end to pain or world hunger or disease, or for peace on earth. But then again, perhaps these things weren't in the power of angels to grant, or they would already have been granted. And perhaps people were supposed to find these things for themselves.
The way he looked at you. I got it then. He loved you, and it was killing him. He won't get over you, Clary, he can't.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories