Jace > Jace's Quotes

“Alec looked down at the shattered pieces in disbelief. “You BROKE my PHONE.”
Jace shrugged. “Guys don’t let other guys keep calling other guys. Okay, that came out wrong. Friends don’t let friends keep calling their exes and hanging up. Seriously. You have to stop.”
Alec looked furious. “So you broke my brand new phone? Thanks a lot.”
Jace smiled serenely and lay back on the grass. “You’re welcome.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“We shouldn’t,” protested Isabelle. “The Clave has a plan.”

“The Clave has the collective intelligence of a pineapple,” said Jace.

Alec blinked up at them. “Jace is right.”

Isabelle turned on her brother. “What do you know? You weren’t even paying attention.”

“I was,” Alec said, injured. “I said Jace was right.”

“Yeah, but there’s like a 90% chance of me being right most of the time, so that’s not proof you were listening,” said Jace. “That’s just a good guess.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“Magnus rolled onto his back and put his feet up on the arm of the sofa. “What do you care if Alec’s miserable?”

“What do I care?” Jace said, so loudly that Chairman Meow rolled off the couch and landed on the floor. “Of course I care about Alec; he’s my best friend, my parabatai. And he’s unhappy. And so are you, by the look of things. Takeout containers everywhere, you haven’t done anything to fix up the place, your cat looks dead —“

“He’s not dead.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“I think,” Jace said, “that you don’t want to tell your secrets, so you decided to break up with Alec because...”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“She turned to look at Sebastian, lying on the bed. He was shirtless, and even in the dim light the old whip weals across his back were visible. She had always been fascinated by Shadowhunters but had never thought she would find one whose personality she could stand for more than five minutes, until Sebastian.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“No killing,” Jordan said. “We’re trying to make you feel peaceful, so you don’t go up in flames. Blood, killing, war, those are all non-peaceful things. Isn’t there anything else you like? Rainforests? Chirping birds?”

“Weapons,” said Jace. “I like weapons.”

“I’m starting to think we have a problematic issue of personal philosophy here.”

Jace leaned forward, his palms flat on the ground. “I’m a warrior,” he said. “I was brought up as a warrior. I didn’t have toys, I had weapons. I slept with a wooden sword until I was five. My first books were medieval demonologies with illuminated pages. The first songs I learned were chants to banish demons. I know what brings me peace, and it isn’t sandy beaches or chirping birds in rainforests. I want a weapon in my hand and a strategy to win.”

Jordan looked at him levelly. “So you’re saying that what brings you peace … is war.”

“Now you get it.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“Isabelle tugged her tank top back down and glared at her brother. “You don’t knock now?”

“It’s my bedroom!” Alec spluttered.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“Your boyfriend's dead. Thought you should know.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“His eyes shone when he looked at her, green as spring grass.

He has always had green eyes, said the voice in her head. People often marvel at how much alike you are, he and your mother and yourself. His name is Jonathan and he is your brother; he has always protected you.

Somewhere in the back of Clary’s mind she saw black eyes and whip marks, but she didn’t know why. He’s your brother. He’s your brother, and he’s always taken care of you.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“Simon,” said a voice at his shoulder, and he turned to see Izzy, her face a pale smudge between dark hair and dark cloak, looking at him, her expression half-angry, half-sad. “I guess this is the part where we say goodbye?”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“She felt dirty all over and looking over Sebastian, sweat on his brow and his naked torso barely covered by the sheets, she had to swallow back bile at what she'd just done.”
― cassandra clare

“A moment later, Helen had returned; she was walking slowly now, and carefully, her hand on the back of a thin boy with a mop of wavy brown hair. He couldn’t have been older than twelve, and Clary recognized him immediately. Helen, her hand firmly clamped around the wrist of a younger boy whose hands were covered with blue wax. He must have been playing with the tapers in the huge candelabras that decorated the sides of the nave. He looked about twelve, with an impish grin and the same wavy, bitter-chocolate hair as his sister.

Jules, Helen had called him. Her little brother.

The impish grin was gone now. He looked tired and dirty and frightened. Skinny wrists stuck out of the cuffs of a white mourning jacket whose sleeves were too long for him. In his arms he was carrying a little boy, probably not more than two years old, with the same wavy brown hair that he had; it seemed to be a family trait. The rest of his family wore the same borrowed mourning clothes: following Julian was a brunette girl about ten, her hand firmly clasped in the hold of a boy the same age: the boy had a sheet of tangled black hair that nearly obscured his face. Fraternal twins, Clary guessed. After them came a girl who might have been eight or nine, her face round and very pale between brown braids.

The misery on their faces cut at Clary’s heart. She thought of her power with runes, wishing that she could create one that would soften the blow of loss. Mourning runes existed, but only to honor the dead, in the same way that love runes existed, like wedding rings, to symbolize the bond of love. You couldn’t make someone love you with a rune, and you couldn’t assuage grief with it, either. So much magic, Clary thought, and nothing to mend a broken heart.

“Julian Blackthorn,” said Jia Penhallow, and her voice was gentle. “Step forward, please.”

Julian swallowed and handed the little boy he was holding over to his sister. He stepped forward, his eyes darting around the room. He was clearly scouring the crowd for someone. His shoulders had just begun to slump when another figure darted out onto the stage. A girl, also about twelve, with a tangle of blond hair that hung down around her shoulders: she wore jeans and a t-shirt that didn’t quite fit, and her head was down, as if she couldn’t bear so many people looking at her. It was clear that she didn’t want to be there — on the stage or perhaps even in Idris — but the moment he saw her, Julian seemed to relax. The terrified look vanished from his expression as she moved to stand next to him, her face ducked down and away from the crowd.

“Julian,” said Jia, in the same gentle voice, “would you do something for us? Would you take up the Mortal Sword?”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

“Okayyyyy,” Isabelle said in a low voice, “When did Brother Zachariah get hot?”
― 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

“My undercarriage is a national treasure.”
― Gina Damico, Rogue

“Life isn't fair. Why should death be any different?”
― Gina Damico, Croak

“The list of scars my students have sustained at the hand of your daughter grows longer each week. Poor Logan Hochspring's arm will forever carry an imprint of her dental records!"
"You bit him?" Lex's father said.
"He called me a wannabe vampire. What was I supposed to do?"
"Oh, I don't know--maybe not bite him?”
― Gina Damico, Croak

“Seriously?" she said with a glance of skepticism. Driggs and this nerdlinger? "You guys are best friends?"
Ferbus looked up briefly to give her a smug look. "We prefer the term heterosexual life mates.”
― Gina Damico, Croak

“She wished, as almost all kids wish at one point or another, that she could turn into a pterodactyl and fly away and never come back.”
― Gina Damico, Croak

“Momentarily forgetting how wind works, Lex tried spitting at him. This failed”
― Gina Damico, Croak

“Let me tell you something right now, something that I don't want you ever to forget: Starbucks is an abomination."
Lex was speechless. She now believed that there was no way in a million years this man could possibly be a blood relative.”
― Gina Damico, Croak

“Just because it’s the biggest secret in the history of the world doesn’t make it any less true.”
― Gina Damico, Croak

“Let me go!" She tore off a mirror and brandished it in his face. "I mean it! I don't want to go to your godforsaken hellbarn, you retarded psycho farmer!”
― Gina Damico, Croak

“For a moment she could have sworn she was standing in one of those history-comes-alive museums--the kind that feature animatronic robots, the narration stylings of James Earl Jones, and the sort of exhibits that invade children's nightmares for years to come. But instead of a cyborgish John Wilkes Booth discharging his deadly bullet into the back of a plastic Lincoln's head, a very real version of the assassin was engaged in a furious arm-wrestling match with Elvis Presley.

Lincoln was watching the tussle, amused. "Come on, John," he said. "You can do better than that."

"He's all talk," Elvis whispered back.

"Silence!" roared Booth. "I'm trying to concentrate!"

Lincoln rolled his eyes.”
― Gina Damico, Croak

“Ah, bribery." He grinned at his niece. "is there anything it can't do?”
― Gina Damico, Croak

“Hey there cutie," he said. "What's your name?"
Lex rolled her eyes and turned toward the window. "Kill me."
"Kimmy? I'm Steve," he went on undeterred.
"Cram it, Steve”
― Gina Damico, Croak

“A crash of cymbals exploded in her ear. She opened her eyes to behold Driggs clanging them vigorously, a mischievous grin on his face and a large bruise surrounding his eye.

"I hope, for the sake of your fertility, you're wearing a cup," she warned through clenched teeth."
"Come on," he said, jumping onto to the mattress. "It's time for work."

Lex moaned. "How are you so awake already?"
"If you recall, I eat a lot of chocolate.”
― Gina Damico, Croak

“Should she go on? Or drop it? Maybe this was one of those things that people should keep to themselves, like a hatred of baby pandas or a passion for polka music. Everyone needs a secret or two.”
― Gina Damico, Croak

“The boy took a step toward her. Lex jumped back, her contentious instincts kicking in. "Stop right there," she warned. "I punch, I kick, and I feel compelled to warn you, I can bite harder than the average Amazonian crocodile."

He smirked and leaned against the doorframe. "And I feel compelled to warn YOU that the bathroom we now share has a leaky ceiling," he said, pointing up. "There's an umbrella under the sink, if you're going to be in here for a while.”
― Gina Damico, Croak

“Fine!" he relented, giving her a dirty look. "But only if you stay in front."
She rolled her eyes. "My, what chivalry."
"To hell with chivalry. Your idea, you die first.”
― Gina Damico, Scorch