Clary Quotes

“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

“And now I’m looking at you,” he said, “and you’re asking me if I still want you, as if I could stop loving you. As if I would want to give up the thing that makes me stronger than anything else ever has. I never dared give much of myself to anyone before – bits of myself to the Lightwoods, to Isabelle and Alec, but it took years to do it – but, Clary, since the first time I saw you, I have belonged to you completely. I still do. If you want me.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass

“Sarcasm is the last refuge of the imaginatively bankrupt.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“Can I help you with something?"
Clary turned instant traitor against her gender. "Those girls on the other side of the car are staring at you."
Jace assumed an air of mellow gratification. "Of course they are," he said, "I am stunningly attractive.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“It's not gray," Clary felt compelled to point out. "It's green."
"If there was such a thing as terminal literalism, you'd have died in childhood," said Jace.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“We need to talk. All of us About what we're going to do now."
"I was going to watch Project Runway.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes

“And next time you're planning to injure yourself to get me attention, just remember that a little sweet talk works wonders.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“You're so easy to tease. And yes, your friend is just fine. Well, except that he keeps putting all my things away and trying to clean up. Now I can't find anything. He's compulsive.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes

“It's a coffee cup."
She could hear the irritation in her own voice. "I know it's a coffee cup."
"I can't wait till you draw something really complicated, like the Brooklyn Bridge or a lobster. You'll probably send me a singing telegram.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“Look, you can date whoever you want and I will totally support you. I am all about support. Support is my middle name.”
“So that’s why you never told me your middle name. I figured it was something embarrassing.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass

“Lawful good to lawful evil!" said Simon, pleased.
"He's quoting Dungeons and Dragons," said Clary. "Ignore him.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes

“You're not going," he said as soon as she'd finished. "If I have to tie you up and sit on you until this insane whim of yours passes, you are not going to Idris." - Jace”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass

“Maybe that was why she couldn't cry, she realized, staring dry-eyed at the ceiling. Because what was the point in crying when there was no one there to comfort you? And what was worse, when you couldn't even comfort yourself?”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass

“You're pining," said Jace.
Alec shrugged. "Look who's talking. 'oh I love her. Oh, she's my sister. Oh why, why, why—”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“He’s not feeling well,” Clary said, catching at Simon’s wrist. “We’re going.”
“No,” Simon said. “No, I — I need to talk to him. To the Inquisitor."
Robert reached into his jacket and drew out a crucifix. Clary stared in shock as he held it up between himself and Simon. “I speak to the Night’s Children Council representative, or to the head of the New York clan,” he said. “Not to any vampire who comes to knock at my door —“
Simon reached out and plucked the cross out of Robert’s hand. “Wrong religion,” he said.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“Isabelle!" he called again. "Let down your raven hair!'
"Oh my God," Clary muttered. "There was something in that blood Raphael gave you, wasn't there? I'm going to kill him.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“I've never felt so... light.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“So what's their plan, hitting Sebastian over the head with Jace until he passes out?”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“Jace broke off the kiss and stepped back with an exhale; before Clary could say anything, a chorus of sarcastic applause broke out from the nearby hill. Simon, Isabelle, and Alec waved at them. Jace bowed while Clary stepped back slightly sheepishly, hooking her thumbs into the belt of her jeans
Jace sighed. "Shall we join our annoying, voyeuristic friends?"
"Unfortunately, that's the only kind of friends we have.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“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.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“You know Jace Lightwood?" said Emma.
"I-- What?"
"He's famous," Emma said with obvious amazement. He's the best Shadowhunter. The best.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“Jace,” she said. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because you’re lying to me. And you’re lying to yourself.” Jace’s eyes were blazing, and even though his hands were stuffed into his pockets, she could see that they were knotted into fists.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes

“I love you, Clary," he said without looking at her. He was staring out into the church, at the row of lighted candles, their fold reflected in his eyes. "More than I ever--" He broke off. "God. More than I probably should. You know that, don't you?”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Fallen Angels

“As long as I can still dream, I will dream of you”
― Jace Wayland

“The Great and Tragic Love of Jonathan Shadowhunter and David the Silent, by Clary Fray, Aged 17.
SIMON IT WAS BY SIMON NOT ME

(...) Jonathan Shadowhunter: Oh, David, I would trust you with my life!
David: Oh, Jonathan, I would sacrifice my own life for your holy mission! (He almost does)
Jonathan: (weeping) David, you must return to me! I need you! I cannot do this thing without you!
David: Lo, I return!
Jonathan: Zounds! I feel a great stirring in my pantaloons!
David: What doth thy pantalo
SIMON I WILL KILL YOU”
― Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter's Codex

“Surely, she was too young to have so many ghosts.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“He was a vampire now. He was supposed to have eternity. But what he had was days.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Fallen Angels

“She had worn the Morgenstern ring since Jace had left it for her, and sometimes she wondered why. Did she really want to be reminded of Valentine? And yet, at the same time, was it ever right to forget?

You couldn't erase everything that caused you pain with its recollection. She didn't want to forget Max or Madeleine, or Hodge, or the Inquisitor, or even Sebastian. Every moment was valuable; even the bad ones.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass

“We could probably go in without invisibility glamours,” said Isabelle, craning her neck to look down the street. “Half these people have more tattoos than we do.”

“But none of them are nearly as attractive.” Jace narrowed his eyes as his Farsight rune took effect, following Isabelle’s gaze. Halfway up the line he saw a flash of something bright. Red hair. A girl with bright red hair was standing in line next to a dark-haired boy who was gesturing animatedly. “Well,” he amended. “Almost none of them.”
― Cassandra Clare, We Jace you a Clary Xmas

“We could probably go in without invisibility glamours,” said Isabelle, craning her neck to look down the street. “Half these people have more tattoos than we do.”

“But none of them are nearly as attractive.” Jace narrowed his eyes as his Farsight rune took effect, following Isabelle’s gaze. Halfway up the line he saw a flash of something bright. Red hair. A girl with bright red hair was standing in line next to a dark-haired boy who was gesturing animatedly. “Well,” he amended. “Almost none of them.”
― Cassandra Clare, We Jace you a Clary Xmas