City of Bones by Cassandra ClareMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
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This is the first time that I am re-reading this series and I love it!
These quotes are from a quick Google search, “city of bones by cassandra clare ebook,” that I found on this website!
The quotes are also from my personal collection of quotes from Google Keep.
So I made this picture for my “➰Trance (No Vocals)” Spotify playlist.
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/52pidCWHVbqoWbTPhse08u?si=j_5whCKYQA66smwNXu-VEQ
And when I say “made” I really mean that I found it on Google and fixed it up a bit to fit on Spotify. Total side note, but God I love this picture so much!
Here is the original picture:
So as you can see, these are the adaptations of the main characters. And in the left picture you can see that Clary’s arm is way too high to match up with her collar bone, so I just painted over that. In my opinion, I think the left representation is way better than the initial movie because of the hair and Jace’s eyes are more like how they are described in the books. And to be honest, Clary in this picture reminds me of Hannah from “Foreign Exchange”.
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| Tuesday, October 13, 2020 at 4:25 PM |
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| I got this one at Goodwill! I was so excited to see it there. |
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| I also own the audiobook! I got an audiobook credit from one of the Summer Reading Challenges! |
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| I won this pendant on Twitter! It was when the TV show "Shadowhunters" was airing (around 2016)! Now it's in my Shadowhunters shrine. |
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| I put it on City of Bones because it is the book that started it all! :D |
“‘So,’ Simon said, ‘pretty good music, eh?’
…
‘Mmm-hmm.’ Clary knew perfectly well that he came to Pandemonium with her only because she liked it, that he thought it was boring. She wasn't even sure why it was that she liked it— the clothes, the music made it like a dream, someone else's life, not her boring real life at all. But she was always too shy to talk to anyone but Simon.
…
‘I feel,’ Simon went on, ‘that this evening DJ Bat is doing a singularly exceptional job. Don't you agree?’
Clary rolled her eyes and didn't answer; Simon hated trance music” (4-6).I have been thinking about this quote for a while now and I finally found it! I originally thought that it would in City of Fallen Angels, but little did I know that it was in the first book! LOL In my memory, I thought it was a scene where Clary was in her room, but she was in the living room instead. I like this quote because it is about reading.
“The door flew open. Jocelyn gave a little scream.
‘Jesus!' Luke exclaimed.
‘Actually, it's just me,' said Simon. ‘Although I've been told the resemblance is startling.' He waved at Clary from the doorway. ‘You ready?'” (Ch. 2, 28).
“‘I'll get the coffee if you find us a seat. What do you want?'
‘Just coffee. Black--like my soul'" (Ch. 3, 36).
“‘You're familiar with the motto of the Covenant?'
‘Sed lex dura lex,’ said Jace automatically. ‘The Law is hard, but it is the Law’” (108).
“‘Get the hell off me, you pretentious asshole,' the intruder snarled, shoving at Jace. He struggled halfway into a sitting position, his battered glasses askew" (114).
“‘You're my best friend,' Clary said. ‘I wasn't mad at you.’
‘Yeah, well, you clearly also couldn't be bothered to call me and tell me you were shacking up with some dyed-blond wanna-be goth you probably met at Pandemonium,' Simon pointed out sourly. ‘After I spent the past three days wondering if you were dead.'
‘I was not shacking up,' Clary said, glad of the darkness as the blood rushed to her face.
‘And my hair is naturally blond,' said Jace. ‘Just for the record'" (Chapter 8: Weapon of Choice, 115).
“She wondered how often he let glimpses of his real self peek through the façade that was as hard and shiny as the coat of lacquer on one of her mother's Japanese boxes" (138-139).
“There was a date inscribed on the base, 1234, and words inscribed around it: NEPHILIM: FACILIS DESCENSUS AVERNI.
…
Jace's grin was a white flash in the darkness. ‘It means “Shadowhunters: Looking Better in Black Than the Widows of our Enemies Since 1234.”’
…
It means, said Jeremiah, The descent into Hell is easy.
...
‘It's the Brothers' little joke, having that here,' said Jace. ‘You'll see’” (179).
“How exhausting, Clary thought, to fight all your life and then be expected to continue that fight even after your life was over" (181).
“...faint and sickly green" (220).
“‘All knowledge hurts,' he replied" (233).
“Jace was muttering to himself. “Think, Wayland, think—”
Something began to take shape in the back of Clary’s mind. A rune danced against the
backs of her eyelids: two downward triangles, joined by a single bar—a rune like a pair
of wings ….
“That’s it,” Jace breathed, dropping his hands, and for a startled moment Clary
wondered if he had read her mind. He looked feverish, his gold-flecked eyes very bright.
“I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before.” He dashed to the far end of the roof, then
paused and looked back at her. She was still standing dazed, her thoughts full of
glimmering shapes. “Come on, Clary.”
She followed him, pushing thoughts of runes from her mind. He had reached the
tarpaulin and was tugging at the edge of it. It came away, revealing not junk but
sparkling chrome, tooled leather, and gleaming paint. “Motorcycles?”
Jace reached for the nearest one, an enormous dark red Harley with gold flames on
the tank and fenders. He swung a leg over it and looked over his shoulder at her. “Get
on.”
Clary stared. “Are you kidding? Do you even know how to drive that thing? Do you
have keys?”
“I don’t need keys,” he explained with infinite patience. “It runs on demon energies.
Now, are you going to get on, or do you want to ride your own?”
Numbly Clary slid onto the bike behind him. Somewhere, in some part of her brain, a
tiny voice was screaming about what a bad idea this was.
“Good,” Jace said. “Now put your arms around me.” She did, feeling the hard muscles
of his abdomen contract as he leaned forward and jammed the point of the stele into the
ignition. To her amazement she felt the motorcycle thrum to life under her. In her
pocket Simon squeaked loudly.
“Everything’s okay,” she said, as soothingly as she could. “Jace!” she shouted, over the
sound of the motorcycle’s engine. “What are you doing?”
He yelled back something that sounded like “Pushing in the choke!”
Clary blinked. “Well, hurry it up! The door—”
On cue, the roof door burst open with a crash, torn from its hinges. Wolves poured
through the gap, racing across the roof straight at them. Above them flew the vampires,
hissing and screeching, filling the night with predatory cries.
She felt Jace’s arm jerk back and the motorcycle lurch forward, sending her stomach
slamming into her spine. She clutched convulsively at Jace’s belt as they shot forward,
tires skidding along the slates, scattering the wolves, who yelped as they leaped aside.
She heard Jace shout something, his words torn away by the noise of wheels and wind
and engine. The edge of the roof was coming up fast, so fast, and Clary wanted to shut
her eyes but something held them wide open as the motorcycle hurtled over the parapet
and plummeted like a rock toward the ground, ten stories down.
If Clary screamed, she didn’t remember it later. It was like the first drop on a roller
coaster, where the track falls away and you feel yourself hurtling through space, your
hands waving uselessly in the air and your stomach jammed up around your ears. When
the cycle righted itself with a sputter and a jerk, she almost wasn’t surprised. Instead of
plunging downward they were now hurtling up toward the diamond-littered sky.
Clary glanced back and saw a cluster of vampires standing on the roof of the hotel,
surrounded by wolves. She looked away—if she never saw that hotel again, it’d be too
soon.
Jace was yelling, loud whooping shrieks of delight and relief. Clary leaned forward,
her arms tight around him. “My mother always told me if I rode a motorcycle with a
boy, she’d kill me,” she called over the noise of the wind whipping past her ears and the
deafening rumble of the engine.
She couldn’t hear him laugh, but she felt his body shake. “She wouldn’t say that if she
knew me,” he called back to her confidently. “I’m an excellent driver.”
Belatedly, Clary recollected something. “I thought you said only some of the vampire
bikes could fly?”
Deftly, Jace steered them around a stoplight in the process of turning from red to
green. Below, Clary could hear cars honking, ambulance sirens wailing, and buses
puffing to their stops, but she didn’t dare look down. “Only some of them can!”
“How did you know this was one of them?”
“I didn’t!” he shouted gleefully, and did something that made the bike rise almost
vertically into the air. Clary shrieked and grabbed for his belt again.
“You should look down!” Jace shouted. “It’s awesome!”
Sheer curiosity forced its way past terror and vertigo. Swallowing hard, Clary opened
her eyes.
They were higher than she had realized, and for a moment the earth swung dizzily
beneath her, a blurring landscape of shadow and light. They were flying east, away
from the park, toward the highway that snaked along the right bank of the city.
There was a numbness in Clary’s hands, a hard pressure in her chest. It was lovely,
she could see that: the city rising up beside her like a towering forest of silver and glass,
the dull gray shimmer of the East River, slicing between Manhattan and the boroughs
like a scar. The wind was cool in her hair, on her legs, delicious after so many days of
heat and stickiness. Still, she’d never flown, not even in an airplane, and the vast empty
space between them and the ground terrified her. She couldn’t keep from squinching her
eyes almost shut as they shot out over the river. Just below the Queensboro Bridge, Jace
turned the bike south and headed to the foot of the island. The sky had begun to lighten,
and in the distance Clary could see the glittering arch of the Brooklyn Bridge, and
beyond that, a smudge on the horizon, the Statue of Liberty.
“Are you all right?” Jace shouted.
Clary said nothing, just clutched him more tightly. He banked the cycle, and then they
were sailing toward the bridge, and Clary could see stars through the suspension cables.
An early morning train was rattling over it—the Q, carrying a load of sleepy dawn
commuters. She thought how often she’d been on that train. A wave of vertigo swamped
her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, gasping with nausea.
“Clary?” Jace called. “Clary, are you all right?”
She shook her head, eyes still shut, alone in the dark and the tearing wind with just
the pounding of her heart. Something sharp scratched against her chest. She ignored it
until it came again, more insistent. Barely opening an eye, she saw that it was Simon,
his head poking out of her pocket, tugging her jacket with an urgent paw. “It’s all right,
Simon,” she said with an effort, not looking down. “It was just the bridge—”
He scratched her again, then pointed an urgent paw toward the waterfront of
Brooklyn, rising up on their left. Dizzy and sick, she looked and saw, beyond the
outlines of the warehouses and factories, a sliver of golden sunrise just visible, like the
edge of a pale gilt coin. “Yes, very pretty,” Clary said, closing her eyes again. “Nice
sunrise.”
Jace went rigid all over, as if he’d been shot. “Sunrise?” he yelled, then jerked the
cycle savagely to the right. Clary’s eyes flew open as they plunged toward the water,
which had begun to shimmer with the blue of oncoming dawn.
Clary leaned as close to Jace as she could get without squashing Simon between them.
“What’s so bad about sunrise?”
“I told you! The bike runs on demon energies!” He pulled back so that they were level
with the river, just skimming along the surface with the wheels kicking up spray. River
water splashed into Clary’s face. “As soon as the sun comes up—”
The bike began to sputter. Jace swore colorfully, slamming his fist into the
accelerator. The bike lunged forward once, then choked, jerking under them like a
bucking horse. Jace was still swearing as the sun peeked over the crumbling wharves of
Brooklyn, lighting the world with devastating clarity. Clary could see every rock, every
pebble under them as they cleared the river and hurtled over the narrow bank. Below
them was the highway, already streaming with early traffic. They only just cleared it,
the wheels grazing the roof of a passing truck. Beyond was the trash-strewn parking lot
of an enormous supermarket. “Hang on to me!” Jace was shouting, as the bike jerked
and sputtered underneath them. “Hang on to me, Clary, and do not let—”
The bike tilted and struck the asphalt of the parking lot, front wheel first. It shot
forward, wobbling violently, and went into a long skid, bouncing and slamming over
the uneven ground, whipping Clary’s head back and forth with neck-cracking force. The
air stank of burned rubber. But the bike was slowing, skidding to a halt—and then it
struck a concrete parking barrier with such force that she was lifted into the air and
hurled sideways, her hand tearing free of Jace’s belt. She barely had time to curl herself
into a protective ball, holding her arms as rigid as possible and praying Simon wouldn’t
be crushed, when they struck the ground.
She hit hard, agony screaming up her arm.” (Ch. 15 High and Dry, 287-292).
I like this scene because it’s the flying motorcycle scene. The “Shadowhunters” TV show showed this and it was almost how I pictured this scene.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9T4Iqli7K84
