That was what humans did: They left on another messages through time, pressed between pages or carved into rock. Like reaching out a hand through time, and trusting in a phantom hoped-for hand to catch yours. Humans did not last forever. They could only hope what they made would endure.
Cassandra ClareMots clés magnus-bane
It was a bit warm. Still. If one could look this fabulous, one had an obligation to. One should wear everything, or one should wear nothing at all.
Cassandra ClareMots clés magnus-bane
In Paris one could have the eyes of a cat (as he did) and tell people it was a trick of fashion.
Cassandra ClareMots clés magnus-bane
How generous the universe could be, when he wanted to be!
Cassandra ClareMots clés magnus-bane
Oh, the universe had outdone herself. The universe would be send flowers.
Cassandra ClareMots clés magnus-bane
When one steals a flying balloon and animates it to fly over Paris, one should, ideally, have some idea how said balloon normally works.
Cassandra ClareMots clés magnus-bane
Vampires, fey folk, werewolves, Shadowhunters, and demons - these things made sense to Magnus. But the mundane world - it seemed to have no pattern, no form. Their quicksilver politics. Their short lives...
Cassandra ClareMots clés magnus-bane
It had been a whim, and there was nothing Magnus attached more importance to than a whim.
Cassandra ClareMots clés desire magnus-bane
It really was getting difficult to be wonderful.
Cassandra ClareMots clés difficulty magnus-bane
One did not turn down an invitation from Saint Cloud. At least, one didn't if one wanted to continue living contentedly in Paris. Vampires took offense so easily - and Parisian vampires were the worst of all.
Cassandra ClareMots clés paris vampires offense magnus-bane
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