There Was An Electric Anger In His

I Like In Books When We Start The Book And You Really Don't Know How It's Going To Turn Out.

My Ideas Often Come From Strong Mental Images. When I'm Observing Some Relatively Ordinary Thing, I'll Think, "what If...." And Out Of That Brainstorming A Story Emerges.

Clary Grinned. "a Picnic? It's A Little Late For Central Park, Don't You Think? It's Full Of - " He Waved A Hand. "faeries. I Know." "i Was Going To Say Muggers," Said Clary. "though I Pity The Mugger Who Goes After You." "that Is A Wise Attitude, And I Commend You For It," Said Jace, Looking Gratified.

I Think When We Make Choices—for Each Choice Is Individual Of The Choices We Have Made Before—we Must Examine Not Only Our Reasons For Making Them But What Result They Will Have, And Whether Good People Will Be Hurt By Our Decisions.

He Took Her By The Shoulders And Pulled Her Closer To Him, His Fingers Knotting In The Fabric Of Her Dress. Even More Than In The Attic, She Felt Caught In The Eddy Of A Powerful Wave That Threatened To Pull Her Over And Under, To Crush And Break Her, To Wear Her Down To Softness As The Sea Might Wear Down A Piece Of Glass.