Quotes by Cassandra Clare

Once there was a boy,” said Jace.Clary interrupted immediately. “A Shadowhunter boy?”“Of course.” For a moment a bleak amusement colored his voice. Then it was gone. “When the boy was six years old, his father gave him a falcon to train. Falcons are raptors – killing birds, his father told him, the Shadowhunters of the sky.“The falcon didn’t like the boy, and the boy didn’t like it, either. Its sharp beak made him nervous, and its bright eyes always seemed to be watching him. It would slash at him with beak and talons when he came near: For weeks his wrists and hands were always bleeding. He didn’t know it, but his father had selected a falcon that had lived in the wild for over a year, and thus was nearly impossible to tame. But the boy tried, because his father told him to make the falcon obedient, and he wanted to please his father.“He stayed with the falcon constantly, keeping it awake by talking to it and even playing music to it, because a tired bird was meant to be easier to tame. He learned the equipment: the jesses, the hood, the brail, the leash that bound the bird to his wrist. He was meant to keep the falcon blind, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it – instead he tried to sit where the bird could see him as he touched and stroked its wings, willing it to trust him. Hee fed it from his hand, and at first it would not eat. Later it ate so savagely that its beak cut the skin of his palm. But the boy was glad, because it was progress, and because he wanted the bird to know him, even if the bird had to consume his blood to make that happen.“He began to see that the falcon was beautiful, that its slim wings were built for the speed of flight, that it was strong and swift, fierce and gentle. When it dived to the ground, it moved like likght. When it learned to circle and come to his wrist, he neary shouted with delight Sometimes the bird would hope to his shoulder and put its beak in his hair. He knew his falcon loved him, and when he was certain it was not just tamed but perfectly tamed, he went to his father and showed him what he had done, expecting him to be proud.“Instead his father took the bird, now tame and trusting, in his hands and broke its neck. ‘I told you to make it obedient,’ his father said, and dropped the falcon’s lifeless body to the ground. ‘Instead, you taught it to love you. Falcons are not meant to be loving pets: They are fierce and wild, savage and cruel. This bird was not tamed; it was broken.’“Later, when his father left him, the boy cried over his pet, until eventually his father sent a servant to take the body of the bird away and bury it. The boy never cried again, and he never forgot what he’d learned: that to love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed.

One must always be careful of books, said Tessa, and what is inside them, for words have the power to change us.

We live and breathe words.

How can you tell? That I like books, I mean.The look on your face when you walked in, somehow I doubted you were that impressed by me.

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.

Bloodthirsty little beasts. Never trust a duck.

There were valuable first editions of books in the enormous library, most of them had been scribbled in by some idiot named Will H.

I thought... that we could at least talk about books.

And what do you like to do, little man? I like-books, James had said. While standing in the bookshop, with a parcel of books under his arm. The lady had given him a pitying look. I read-erm-rather a lot, James went on, dreary master of the obvious. King of the obvious. Emperor of the obvious.

You know that feeling 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 close 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.

[Kieran]his head propped on a stack of poetry books he’d brought from the library. Almost all of them had been inscribed on the inside cover by a James Herondale, who had neatly written out his favorite lines.

Words have the power to change us. - Tessa Gray

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.

Just take the weapon you hold in your hand and drive it through his heart, Valentines voice was soft. One simple motion. Nothing you havent done before.Jace met his fathers stare with a level gaze. I saw Agramon, he said. It had your

Everyone is afraid of something. We fear things because we value them. We fear losing people because we love them. We fear dying because we value being alive. Dont wish you didnt fear anything. All that would mean is that you didnt feel anything.

You couldnt speak to fear, couldnt tell it the truth: Fear lived in your bones.

Emma, everyones afraid of something. We fear things because we value them. We fear losing people because we love them. We fear dying because we value being alive. Dont wish you didnt fear anything. All that would mean is that you didnt feel anything.

And that someone would pay. Revenge is a cold bedfellow, Diana had said, but Emma didnt believe that. Revenge would let her think about her parents without a cold knot forming in her stomach. She would be able to dream without seeing their drowned faces and hearing their voices cry out for her help.

Im not unhappy, he said. Only people with no purpose are unhappy. Ive got a purpose.

And if my heart was a canvas, every square inch of it would be painted over with you.