Cassandra Clare
Cassandra Clare is the pseudonym of the author of the young adult trilogy The Mortal Instruments.
"It's the Mortal Cup, Jace, not the Mortal Toilet Bowl."
"No. I've always known just who you are. Ever since the first time I saw you getting off the ship from Idris, when you were ten years old-you walked into my heart, just as my own children did when they were born."
"Much like postal service, demon hunters never sleep. 'Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these-'"
"You'd be in major trouble if gloom of night did stay you."
"Where's Simon?" Clary interrupted.
Isabelle wobbled. "He's a rat," she said darkly.
"Did he do something to you?" Alec was full of brotherly concern. "Did he touch you? If he tried anything-"
"No, Alec," Isabelle said irritably. "Not like that. He's a rat"
Clary Fray: "You know why."
"Drive fast, mundane. Drive like hell was following you."
"Exactly. Despite my staggering good looks, you actually don't like me that way. And if you're blowing off Magnus, it's not because of me. It's because you're too scared to tell anyone who you really love. Love makes us liars. The Seelie Queen told me that. So don't judge me for lying about how i feel. You do it too."
"I'm taking that away from you before you get to the India part, Magnus in a sari. Some things you don't ever forget"
"Well there goes my plan for selling them on eBay," Clary muttered.
"Selling them on what?"
Clary smiled blandly at him. "A mythical place of great magical power."
"Oh-Simon!"
"No, I'm Jace," said Jace patiently. "Simon is the weaselly little one with the bad haircut and dismal fashion sence."
Jace Wayland: "In fact, why didn't Madeleine approach both of us about this? Why just you?"
"Don't tell me," he said. "You've got a drawing emergency. You need a nude model. Well, I'm not in the mood. You could ask Hodge,"
Simon: "So you're trying to make her happy despite the fact that the reason she's unhappy in the first place is you. That seems contradictory, doesn't it?"
"Is there anything I could get for you?" he asked. "Something to drink? Some tea?"
"I don't want tea," said Clary, with a muffled force. "I want to find my mother. And then I want to find out who took her in the first place, and I want to kill them."
"Unfortunately," said Hodge, "we're all out of bitter revenge at the moment, so it's either tea or nothing."
Simon Lewis: "So that's why you never told me your middle name. I figured it was something embarrassing."
Jace: "Love is a contradiction."
"Any last words?"
Simon knew what he was supposed to say. Sh'ma Yisrael, adonai elohanu, adonai echod. Hear, oh Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One. He tried to speak the words, but a searing pain burned his throat. "Clary,"
Clary: "That doesn't make any sense."
"I know how you think you feel about me, you don't though. You just like me because I'm safe. There's no risk. And then you never have to try to have a real relationship because you can use me as an excuse."