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Cassandra Clare

Clockwork Angel

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  • Louis Aguilarhar citeretfor 8 år siden
    Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?
  • Lovely Dhillonhar citeretsidste år
    e. "Thomas! We must away at once to the nearest brothel! I seek scandal and low companionship."
  • Milicahar citeretfor 2 år siden
    “Sometimes,” Jem said, “our lives can change so fast that the change outpaces our minds and hearts. It’s those times, I think, when our lives have altered but we still long for the time before everything was altered—that is when we feel the greatest pain. I can tell you, though, from experience, you grow accustomed to it. You learn to live your new life, and you can’t imagine, or even really remember, how things were before.”
  • Milicahar citeretfor 2 år siden
    His steady gaze held hers. His blue eyes were very dark, uniquely so. She had known people before with blue eyes, but they had always been light blue. Will’s were the color of the sky just on the edge of night.
  • Milicahar citeretfor 2 år siden
    Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?
  • Nervana Blesselhar citeretfor 2 år siden
    Dreams can be dangerous things.”
  • Nervana Blesselhar citeretfor 2 år siden
    Aunt used to say he was a dreamer,” she said. “He always lived in his head. He never cared about how things were, only how they would be, someday, when he had everything he wanted. When we had everything we wanted,”
  • Nervana Blesselhar citeretfor 2 år siden
    “Pulvis et umbra sumus. It’s a line from Horace. ‘We are dust and shadows.’
  • sejal maharjanmaharjanhar citeretfor 2 år siden
    If no one in the entire world cared about you, did you really exist at all?
  • LUNAhar citeretfor 2 år siden
    It was Jem who broke away and ran up the stairs to her. As he reached her, she saw that he had high color in his face, and his eyes were bright and hot. She wondered how much of the drug Will had let him take, so that he would be ready to fight.

    “Tessa—,” he said.

    “I didn’t mean to say good-bye,” she said quickly. “But—it seems odd to let you leave without saying anything at all.”

    He looked at her curiously. He did something that surprised her then, and took her hand, turning it over. She looked down at it, at her bitten fingernails, the still-healing scratches along the backs of her fingers.

    He kissed the back of it, just a light touch of his mouth, and his hair—as soft and light as silk—brushed her wrist as he lowered his head. She felt a shock go through her, strong enough to startle her, and she stood speechless as he straightened, his mouth curving into a smile.

    “Mizpah,” he said.

    She blinked at him, a little dazed. “What?”

    “A sort of good-bye without saying good-bye,” he said.
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