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Clanlands: Whisky...
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Cassandra Clare
“Basia coquum," Simon said. "Or whatever their motto is."
"It's 'Descensus Averno facilis est.' 'The descent into hell is easy," said Alec. "You just said "Kiss the cook."
"Dammit," said Simon. "I knew Jace was screwing with me.”
Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

Cassandra Clare
“Black for hunting through the night

For death and mourning the color's white

Gold for a bride in her wedding gown

And red to call the enchantment down

White silk when our bodies burn

Blue banners when the lost return

Flame for the birth of a Nephilim

And to wash away our sins.

Gray for the knowledge best untold

Bone for those who don't grow old

Saffron lights the victory march

Green to mend our broken hearts

Silver for the demon towers

And bronze to summon wicked powers

-Shadowhunter children's rhyme”
Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

Cassandra Clare
“I've noticed the Fair Folk often say 'perhaps' when there is a truth they want to hide," Clary said. "It keeps you from having to give a straight answer."
"Perhaps so," said the Queen with an amused smile.
"'Mayhap' is a good word too," Alec suggested.
"Also 'perchance,'" Izzy said.
"I see nothing wrong with 'maybe'," said Simon. "A little modern, but the gist of the idea comes across.”
Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

Cassandra Clare
“We are all the pieces of what we remember. We hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss.”
Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

Cassandra Clare
“Do you remember,” he said, “when we first met and I told you I was ninety percent sure putting a rune on you wouldn’t kill you—and you slapped me in the face and told me it was for the other ten percent?” Clary nodded.
“I always figured a demon would kill me,” he said. “A rogue Downworlder. A battle. But I realized then that I just might die if I didn’t get to kiss you, and soon.” Clary licked her dry lips. “Well, you did,” she said. “Kiss me, I mean.”
He reached up and took a curl of her hair between his fingers. He was close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body, smell his soap and skin and hair.
“Not enough,” he said, letting her hair slip through his fingers. “If I kiss you all day every day for the rest of my life, it won’t be enough.”
Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

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