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Cassandra Clare Quotes

Browse 342 quotes about Cassandra Clare.

Cassandra Clare Quotes

“—¿Es ahora cuando empiezas a romper tiras de tela de tu camiseta para vendarme la herida? —bromeó; odiaba la visión de la sangre, en especial la suya. —Sí lo que quieres es que me arranque la ropa, deberías habérmelo dicho. [...] »Y la próxima vez que planees hacerte daño para atraer mi atención, sólo recuerda que una charla dulce hace maravillas. • Ciudad de Hueso, pág. 201”

“And I am afraid that the span of time that we have together may not be long.” “That has always been the case with us,” Will said. “But let us be grateful to your terrifying friend, because however long we have, here we are together and I see no sign of yin fen on you, and we are in possession of the knowledge that there was never any curse on me. For however long, there is no shadow on us.”

“Джулиан однажды признался, что, когда ему становится тяжело, он мысленно откладывает некоторые проблемы и чувства в долгий ящик. "Стоит закрыть их в ящике, - сказал он, - и они больше тебя не беспокоят. Их просто нет".”

“I have just come from the East End,” he said. “Something about the stories disturbed me, for more than the obvious reasons. I went there to have a look about for myself. And what happened last night proves my theory. There have been many murders recently—all of women, women who . . .” “Prostitutes,” Tessa said. “Quite,” Gabriel said. “Tessa has such an extensive vocabulary,” Will said. “It is one of the most attractive things about her. Shame about yours, Gabriel.” “Will, listen to me.” Gabriel allowed himself a long sigh. “Spoon!” James said, running at his uncle Gabriel and jabbing him in the thigh. Gabriel mussed the boy’s hair affectionately. “You’re such a good boy,” he said. “I often wonder how you could possibly be Will’s.” “Spoon,” James said, leaning against his uncle’s leg lovingly. “No, Jamie,” Will urged. “Your honorable father has been impugned. Attack, attack!”

“Will. For a moment her heart hesitated. She remembered when Will had died, her agony, the long nights alone, reaching across the bed every morning when she woke up, for years expecting to find him there, and only slowly growing accustomed to the fact that that side of the bed would always be empty. The moments when she had found something funny and turned to share the joke with him, only to be shocked anew that he was not there. The worst moments, when, sitting alone at breakfast, she had realized that she had forgotten the precise blue of his eyes or the depth of his laugh; that like the sound of Jem's violin music, they had faded into the distance where memories are silent.”