#land

You’re here!” Isabelle danced up to them in delight, carrying a glass of fuchsia liquid, which she thrust at Clary. “Have some of this!” Clary squinted at it. “Is it going to turn me into a rodent?” “Where is the trust? I think it’s strawberry juice,” Isabelle said. “Anyways, it’s yummy. Jace?” She offered him the glass. “I am a man,” he told her, “and men do not consume pink beverages. Get thee gone, woman, and bring me something brown.” “Brown?” Isabelle made a face. “Brown is a manly color,” said Jace, and yanked on a stray lock of Isabelle’s hair with his free hand. “In fact, look – Alec is wearing it.” Alec looked mournfully down at his sweater. “It was black,” he said. “But then it faded.” “You could dress it up with a sequined headband,” Magnus suggested, offering his boyfriend something blue and sparkly. “Just a thought.” “Resist the urge, Alec.” Simon was sitting on the edge of a low wall with Maia beside him, though she appeared to be deep in conversation with Aline. “You’ll look like Olivia Newton-John in Xanadu.” “There are worse things,” Magnus observed. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#isabelle-lightwood #jace-wayland #magnus-bane #simon-lewis #men

Mad Hatter: “Why is a raven like a writing-desk?” “Have you guessed the riddle yet?” the Hatter said, turning to Alice again. “No, I give it up,” Alice replied: “What’s the answer?” “I haven’t the slightest idea,” said the Hatter ↗

— Lewis Carroll

#insanity #madness #idea

It's a poor sort of memory that only works backwards,' says the White Queen to Alice. ↗

— Lewis Carroll

#carroll #memory #poor

Jace set what he was holding down on the windowsill and reached out to her. She came to lean against him, and his hand slid up under her t-shirt and rested caressingly, possessively, on the small of her back. He bent to kiss her, gently at first, but the gentleness went quickly and soon she was pressed up against the glass of the window, his hands at the hem of her shirt — his shirt — “Jace.” She moved a little bit away. “I’m pretty sure people down there in the street can see us.” “We could …” He gestured toward the bed. “Move…over there.” She grinned. “You said that like it took you a while to come up with the idea.” When he spoke, his voice was muffled against her neck. “What can I say, you make my thought processes slow down. Now I know what it’s like to be a normal person.” “How … is it?” The things he was doing with his hands under the t-shirt were distracting. “Terrible. I’m already way behind on my quota of witty comments for the day. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#clary-fray #jace-wayland #witty

It is the first day of November and so, today, someone will die. ↗

— Maggie Stiefvater

#horses #ireland #monsters #november #fantasy

To see the years touch ye gives me joy", he whispered, "for it means that ye live. ↗

— Diana Gabaldon

#historical-fiction #romance #scotland #historical

He'd missed matching wits with her. "Shall we duel with our lips?" "You may find yourself eating grass for breakfast. ↗

— Vicky Dreiling

#historical-romance #regency-england #historical

To the complaint, 'There are no people in these photographs,' I respond, There are always two people: the photographer and the viewer. ↗

— Ansel Adams

#landscapes #photography #photography

Clary stopped dead in her tracks. "Simon?" "Oh, God," said Jace, sounding resigned. "And here I'd actually hoped I'd got hold of something interesting." -Clary and Jace pg. 114 ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#jace-wayland #mortal-instruments #dead

I was going to watch Project Runway," said Jace. "It's on next." "No, you're not," said Magnus. He snapped his fingers and the TV went off, releasing a small puff of smoke as the picture died. "You need to deal with this." "Suddenly you're interested in solving my problems?" "I'm interested in getting my apartment back. I'm tired of you cleaning all the time. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#magnus-bane #tv-reference #television