Ashley Tropea > Ashley's Quotes

“What are my options?"
"You could read obscure poetry while I play the triangle, I suppose. Or we can smother ourselves in peanut butter and howl at the moon. Use your imagination."
"Fine,"I said. "You take my hand and back up toward the bed."
"Excellent choice. What then?"
"You sit down, and pull me down with you."
"Where are you?" he asked.
"You pull me onto your lap."
"Where are your legs?"
"Around your waist."
"Well," Noah said, his voice slightly rough. "This is getting interesting. So I'm on the edge of your bed. I'm holding you on my lap as you straddle me. My arms are around you, bracing you there so you don't fall. What am I wearing?"...
"What do you usually wear to bed?" I asked.
Noah said nothing. I opened my eyes to an arched brow and a devious grin.
Oh my God.
"Close. Your. Eyes," he said. I did. "Now, where were we?"
"I was straddling you," I said.
"Right. And I'm wearing..."
"Drawstring pants."
"Those are quite thin, you know."
I'm aware.
...
"Right," he said. "So what are you wearing?"
"I don't know. A space suit. Who cares?"
"I think this should be as vivid as possible," he said. "For you," he clarified, and I chuckled. "Eyes closed," he reminded me. "I'm going to have to institute a punishment for each time I have to tell you."
"What did you have in mind?"
"Don't tempt me. Now, what are you wearing?"
"A hoodie and drawstring pants too, I guess."
"Anything underneath?"
"I don't typically walk around without underwear."
"Typically?"
"Only on special occasions."
"Christ. I meant under your hoodie."
"A tank top, I guess."
"What color?"
"White tank. Black hoodie. Gray pants. I'm ready to move on now."
I felt him nearer, his words close to my ear. "To the part where I lean back and pull you down with me?"
Yes.
"Over me," he said.
Fuck.
"The part where I tell you that I want to feel the softness of the curls at the nape of your neck? To know what your hipbone would feel like against my mouth?" he murmured against my skin. "To memorize the slope of your navel and the arch of your neck and the swell of your-”
― Michelle Hodkin, The Evolution of Mara Dyer

“Have you fallen in love with the wrong person yet?'
Jace said, "Unfortunately, Lady of the Haven, my one true love remains myself."
..."At least," she said, "you don't have to worry about rejection, Jace Wayland."
"Not necessarily. I turn myself down occasionally, just to keep it interesting.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“There is no pretending," Jace said with absolute clarity. "I love you, and I will love you until I die, and if there is life after that, I'll love you then.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass

“Is this the part where you start tearing off strips of your shirt to bind my wounds?"
"If you wanted me to rip my clothes off, you should have just asked.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“Jesus!" Luke exclaimed.
"Actually, it's just me," said Simon. "Although I've been told the resemblance is startling.”
― Cassandra Clare

“Don't touch any of my weapons without my permission."
"Well, there goes my plan for selling them all on eBay," Clary muttered.
"Selling them on what?"
Clary smiled blandly at him. "A mythical place of great magical power.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“We came to see Jace. Is he alright?"
"I don't know," Magnus said. "Does he normally just lie on the floor like that without moving?”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes

“And indeed it was, the arrow still protruding from its wet, grayish skin, humping its body along with incredible speed. A flick of its tail caught the edge of a statue, sending it flying into the dry ornamental pool, where it shattered into dust.

“By the Angel, it just crushed Sophocles,” noted Will. “Has no one respect for the classics these days?”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“Jem knotted his fingers in the material of Will's sleeve. "You are my parabatai," he said, "You said once I could ask anything of you.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“A very magnanimous statement, Gideon,” said Magnus.
“I’m Gabriel.”
Magnus waved a hand. “All Lightwoods look the same to me.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“He began it,” Cecily said, jerking her chin at Will, though she knew it was pointless. Jem, Will’s parabatai, treated her with the distant sweet kindness reserved for the little sisters of one’s friends, but he would always side with Will. Kindly, but firmly, he put Will above everything else in the world.
Well, nearly everything.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“Tessa craned her head back to look at Will. “You know that feeling,” she said, “when you are reading a book, and you know that it is going to be a tragedy; you can feel the cold and darkness coming, see the net drawing tight around the characters who live and breathe on the pages. But you are tied to the story as if being dragged behind a carriage and you cannot let go or turn the course aside.” His blue eyes were dark with understanding — of course Will would understand — and she hurried on. “I feel now as if the same is happening, only not to characters on a page but to my own beloved friends and companions. I do not want to sit by while tragedy comes for us. I would turn it aside, only I struggle to discover how that might be done.”
“You fear for Jem,” Will said.
“Yes,” she said. “And I fear for you, too.”
“No,” Will said, hoarsely. “Don’t waste that on me, Tess.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“She leaned forward and caught at his hand, pressing it between her own. The touch was like white fire through his veins. He could not feel her skin only the cloth of her gloves, and yet it did not matter. You kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire. He had wondered once why love was always phrased in terms of burning. The conflagration in his own veins, now, gave the answer.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“If Jem dies, I cannot be with Tessa,” said Will. “Because it will be as if I were waiting for him to die, or took some joy in his death, if it let me have her. And I will not be that person. I will not profit from his death. So he must live.” He lowered his arm, his sleeve bloody. “It is the only way any of this can ever mean anything. Otherwise it is only —”

“Pointless, needless suffering and pain? I don’t suppose it would help if I told you that was the way life is. The good suffer, the evil flourish, and all that is mortal passes away,” Magnus said.

“I want more than that,” said Will. “You made me want more than that. You showed me I was only ever cursed because I had chosen to believe myself so. You told me there was possibility, meaning. And now you would turn your back on what you created.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“Will rose slowly to his feet. He could not believe he was doing what he was doing, but it was clear that he was, clear as the silver rim around the black of Jem’s eyes. “If there is a life after this one,” he said, “let me meet you in it, James Carstairs.”

“There will be other lives.” Jem held his hand out, and for a moment, they clasped hands, as they had done during their parabatai ritual, reaching across twin rings of fire to interlace their fingers with each other. “The world is a wheel,” he said. “When we rise or fall, we do it together.”

Will tightened his grip on Jem’s hand, which felt thin as twigs in his. “Well, then,” he said, through a tight throat, “since you say there will be another life for me, let us both pray I do not make as colossal a mess of it as I have this one.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“What are you doing following me around the back streets of London, you little idiot?” Will demanded, giving her arm a light shake.

Cecily’s eyes narrowed. “This morning it was cariad (note: Welsh endearment, like ‘darling’ or ‘love’), now it’s idiot.”

“Oh, you’re using a Glamour rune. There’s one thing to declare, you are not afraid of anything when you live in the country. But this is London.”

“I’m not afraid of London,” Cecily said defiantly.

Will leaned closer, almost hissing in her ear *and said something very complicated in Welsh*

She laughed. “No, it wouldn’t do you any good to tell me to go home. You are my brother, and I want to go with you.”

Will blinked at her words.

You are my brother, and I want to go with you.

It was the sort of thing he was used to hearing Jem say.

Although Cecily was unlike Jem in every other conceivable possible way, she did share one quality with him. Stubbornness. When Cecily said she wanted something, it did not express an idle desire, but an iron determination.

“Do you even care where I’m going?” he said. “What if I were going to hell?”

“I’ve always wanted to see hell,” Cecily said. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“Most of us spend our time trying to stay out of it, Cecily. I’m going to an ifrit den, if you must know, to purchase drugs from vile, dissolute criminals. They may clap eyes on you, and decide to sell you.”

“Wouldn’t you stop them?”

“I suppose it would depend on whether they cut me a part of the profit.”

She shook her head. “Jem is your parabatai,” she said. “He is your brother, given to you by the Clave, but I am your sister by blood. Why would you do anything for him, but you only want me to go home?”

“How do you know the drugs are for Jem?” Will said.

“I’m not an idiot, Will.”

“No, more’s the pity. Jem- Jem is like the better part of me. I would not expect you to understand. I owe him. I owe him this.”

“So what am I?” Cecily said.

Will exhaled, too desperate to check himself. “You are my weakness.”

“And Tessa is your heart,” she said, not angrily, but thoughtfully. “I am not fooled. As I told you, I’m not an idiot. And more’s the pity for you, although I suppose we all want things we can’t have.”

“Oh,” said Will, “and what do you want?”

“I want you to come home.” A strand of black hair was stuck to her cheek by the dampness, and Will fought the urge to pull her cloak closer about her, to make her safe as he had when she was a child.

“The Institute is my home,” Will sighed, and leaned his head against the stone wall. “I can’t stand out her arguing with you all evening, Cecily. If you’re determined to follow me into hell, I can’t stop you.”

“Finally,” she said provingly. “You’ve seen sense. I knew you would, you’re related to me.”

Will fought the urge to shake her.

“Are you ready?”

She nodded, and he raised his hand to knock on the door.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“Tessa put a hand against the wall as she made her way numbly down the stairs. What had she almost done? What had she nearly told Will?”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“Will!”
He turned at the familiar voice and saw Tessa. There was a small path cut along the side of the hill, lined with unfamiliar white flowers, and she was walking up it, toward him. Her long brown hair blew in the wind — she had taken off her straw bonnet, and held it in one hand, waving it at him and smiling as if she were glad to see him.
His own heart leaped up at the sight of her. “Tess,” he called. But she was still such a distance away — she seemed both very near and very far suddenly and at the same time. He could see every detail of her pretty, upturned face, but could not touch her, and so he stood, waiting and desiring, and his heart beat like the wings of seagulls in his chest.
At last she was there, close enough that he could see where the grass and flowers bent beneath the tread of her shoes. He reached out for her —”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“Will’s eyes met Tessa’s as she came closer, almost tripping again over the torn hem of her gown. For a moment, they were in perfect understanding. Jem was what they could still look each other straight in the eye about. On the topic of Jem, they were both fierce and unyielding. Tessa saw Will’s hand tighten on Jem’s sleeve. “She’s here,” he said.
Jem’s eyes opened slowly. Tessa fought to keep the look of shock from her face. His pupils were blown out, his irises a thin ring of silver around the black. “Ni shou shang le ma, quin ai de?” he whispered.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“Wo wei ni xie de,” he said, as he raised the violin to his left shoulder, tucking it under his chin. He had told her many violinists used a shoulder rest, but he did not: there was a slight mark on the side of his throat, like a permanent bruise, where the violin rested.

“You — made something for me?” Tessa asked.

“I wrote something for you,” he corrected, with a smile, and began to play.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“By the Angel, Bridget’s depressing,” said Henry, setting down his newspaper directly on his plate and causing the edge to soak through with egg yolk. Charlotte opened her mouth as if to object, and closed it again. “It’s all heartbreak, death and unrequited love.”
“Well, that is what most songs are about,” said Will. “Requited love is nice, but it doesn’t make much of a ballad.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“Gideon touched her cheek, lightly, with the tips of his fingers. “Did you know your name means ‘wisdom’? It was very well-given.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“Though Will was saying earlier,” Tessa added, “that heroes all come to bad ends, and he could not imagine why anyone would want to be one, anyway.”
“Ah.” Jem’s hand squeezed hers briefly, and then let it go. “Well, Will is looking at it from the hero’s viewpoint, isn’t he? But as for the rest of us, it’s an easy answer.”
“Is it?”
“Of course.” His voice was almost a whisper now. “Heroes endure because we need them. Not for their own sakes. If Will …”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“Silence.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“You know,” Cecily said, “you really didn’t have to throw that man through the window.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“No one can say that death found in me a willing comrade, or that I went easily.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“It has been the privilege and the honor of my life to know you.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“Tess?” A soft voice at the door; she looked up and saw Will there, silhouetted in the light from the corridor.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“You smell good, too,” said Patch

It’s called a shower.” I was staring straight ahead. When he didn’t answer, I turned sideways. “Soap. Shampoo. Hot water.”

Naked. I know the drill.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Hush, Hush

“Say 'provoking' again. Your mouth looks provocative when you do.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Hush, Hush