Best 93 quotes in «simon quotes» category

I got in trouble for fondling buns,” he whispered.

I'm really glad you found me," my voice cracking. Simon squeezed my hand. His lips lowering to my ear, whispering, "I—" He went rigid, head lifting. "Hey, Simon," Tori said behind me. "What is she doing here?" Derek jabbed his thumb at me. "Ask her. I'm not getting any answers.

I could use the fresh air. I think that put my brain to sleep.” She pointed at the text as if it was a piece of rotten meat. “Physics?” I said. “You must need a more advanced text.” “No, it’s just boring.” I picked the book up and double checked the title, to make sure I hadn’t misidentified the subject. “Boring?” I said. “How can physics be …?” I looked up to see she’d already left the room. Simon pointed at the text, grinned and faked a yawn. “Hold on,” I said, striding after her. “Physics is not boring. Maybe you just need me to explain it better. Chloe? Chloe!

I must have been sound asleep if I missed all that shouting," SImon said. "What shouting?" Derek said. "You mean that Chloe just told you that she followed a ghost onto a roof, and you didn't blast her all the way to Canada?

I’m going to tell myself that you’re just cranky because Chloe’s at the mall with Tori, and you weren’t allowed to go. I could point out that if you did go, you’d be even crankier, and you’d make everyone miserable. Especially me.” “You wouldn’t have to go.” “Sure I would. I’d need to run interference when Tori asked how a new shirt looked and you told her the truth.” “I’m honest. Honest is good.” “Not when it comes to girls and clothes. You need to gauge their reaction first. If they aren’t happy with it, you suggest they try something else, even if it looked fine. If they love it and it looks like hell, you say it’s not bad and hope they try something else.

I'm not going anywhere. I'm joining your little gang of baby heroes on the quest to find Superdad." Simon and Derek exchanged a look. "No," Derek said. "No? Excuse me, it was Rae who betrayed you guys. Not me. I helped Chloe." "And was it Rae who tormented her at Lyle House?" "Tormented?" A derisive snort. "I didn't—" "You did everything you could to get Chloe kicked out," Simon said. "And when that didn't work, you tried to kill her." "Kill her?" Tori's mouth hardened. "I'm not my mother. Don't you dare accuse—" "You lured her into the crawl space," Derek said. "Hit her over the head with a brick, bound and gagged her, and locked her in. Did you even check to make sure she was okay? That you hadn't cracked her skull?" Tori sputtered a protest, but from the horror in her eyes, I knew the possibility hadn't occurred to her. "Derek," I said, "I don't think—" "No she didn't think. She could have killed you with the brick, suffocated you with the gag, given you a heart attack from fright, not to mention what would have happened if you hadn't gotten out of your bindings. It only takes a couple of days to die from dehydration." "I would never have left Chloe to die. You can't accuse me of that." "No," Derek said. "Just of wanting hr locked up in a mental hospital. And why? Because you didn't like her. Because she talked to a guy you did like. Maybe you're not your mother, Tori. But what you are..." He fixed her with an icy look. "I don't want around." The expression on her face...I felt for her, whether she'd welcome my sympathy or not. "We don't trust you," Simon said, his tone softer than his brother's. "We can't have someone along that we don't trust." "What if I'm okay with it," I cut in. "If i feel safe with her..." "You don't," Derek said. "You won't kick her to the curb, though, because it's not the kind of person you are." He met Tori's gaze. "But it's the kind of person I am. Chloe won't force you to leave because she'd feel horrible if anything happened to you. Me? I don't care. You brought it on yourself.

I think Mr. Thierry wants to speak to Derek alone.” “Why? I was the one trying to start a fight.” “Now, Simon . . .” Thierry said. “I was. Derek refused, so I said, ‘Bring it on.’ ” The secretary blocked Simon as I followed Thierry into the office. As the door closed, I heard her whisper, “I think it’s very sweet, sticking up for your brother like that.” “I’m not trying to be sweet," Simon said, raising his voice so Thierry could hear. “I’m trying to be fair. But apparently no one’s interested in that.

I like Clary," he said simply. "She always tries to do what's right, and she never lets anyone else tell her what right is. She reminds my parabatai that he wants to live. Occasionally I wish she'd take fewer mad risks, but if I hated reckless crazy-brave people, I'd hate..." "Let me guess," said Simon. "His name rhymes with Face Herringfail." Alec laughed and Simon mentally congratulated himself.

I'll send Ria to you. Save you sneaking up the wall.

I never arrive unannounced without something big and juicy in hand. - Simon Hunt

Now, do I dare ask what you guys are doing hiding out up here? Or is it going to make me jealous?" Simon was smiling as he said it, but Derek glanced away with a gruff "Course not." "So you weren't having another adventure?" Simon lowered himself on my other side, so close he brushed against me, hand resting on mine. "It sure looks like a good spot for one. Rooftop hideaway, old widow's walk. That is what that is, huh? A widow's walk?" "Yeah. And it's rotting, so stay off it," Derek said. "I did. So, adventure?" "A small one," I said. "Oh, man. I always miss them. Okay, break it to me gently.

I take back the cakes!” “You tell him,” Simon said. “Shut up, Snow.

It's kinda hard to get yourself into a good three-toweler when you got the dick of death.

Its your decision, Simon Lewis," said Magnus. "Remain in the existence you have, go to college, study music, get married. Live your life. Or---you can have an uncertain life of shadows and dangers. You can have the joy of reading the stories of incredible happenings, or you can be part of the story." "The choice is up to you

It's you, " I say. "I know I'm late," he says.

"Was it okay?" he asked. I smiled. "Better than okay." "So I won my pass to date two?" "You did." "Good" His face lowered toward mine and I knew what was coming. I knew it. But when his lips touched mine, I still jumped. "S-sorry, I—I" "Skittish as a cat," he murmured.

“Watching my back? Like you watched Chloe’s with those gangbangers?” “That was a mistake. I was running and I thought she was right behind me.” “Did you check?” “What?” “Did you check?” he repeated. “One glance over your shoulder to make sure she was still there?” I didn’t answer. He shook his head. “I’m not accusing you of letting that girl grab Chloe so you could get away. I’m not accusing you of seeing her in trouble and deciding to do nothing about it. I know you didn’t look back. You never thought of it.” “I was scared, okay? You want me to admit that? Fine.” “Chloe would have looked back for you.” I rolled my eyes. “Of course she would. Because Chloe is good and perfect.” “No, because she thinks of others. I would have looked back, too, if you were behind me. Even Derek would have. Why? Because we’re a team now. We need to have each other’s backs. No matter what.

I wind my fingers in his hair. It's thicker than mine, and curlier, and it shines golden in the firelight. There's a mole on his cheek that I've wanted to kiss since I was 12. I do.

She broke the seal to find the flowing, masculine script that had come to mean the world to her. Courage, my love. I need you to possess the same fire that led you from Scotland to Normandy that first day when we met. Whatever the day brings, know that I will always love you. You carry with you, my heart, my soul, my very being. Be strong for me, Kenna. Ever your knight, S Postscriptum S doesn't stand for Stryder. She laughed at that, even though her eyes were filled with tears. -Simon in a letter to Kenna

Simon rolled his eyes. “It’s a good thing we know the person who’s dating Magnus Bane,” he said. “Otherwise, I get the feeling we’d all just lie around all the time wondering what the hell to do next. Or trying to raise the money to hire him by selling lemonade or something.” Alec looked merely irritated by this comment. “The only way you could raise enough money to hire Magnus by selling lemonade is if you put meth in it.

Simon, you gave me no water to wash my feet, but this woman as washed them with her tears. You gave me no kiss, but she has not ceased to kiss my feet. Do no reproach her Simon for you did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed me for my burial.

Terrific," Simon said. "The psychos are on my side.

(Tori) "In the real world, if we’re attacked by some Cabal goon, we’re going to use our fighting powers.” (Simon) “But Chloe doesn’t have fighting powers.” (Tori) “Sure she does. She has a poltergeist. Well, when Liz is around. And when she’s not, Chloe has the awesome power of zombies at her fingertips.” Tori waved at the woods behind our rented house. “Raise a dead bunny. It can nip my ankles while I’m throwing you down.”

Ugh," he said after a few swallows. "Dead blood." Jace's eyebrows went up. " Isn't all blood dead?" "The longer the animal whose blood I'm drinking has been dead, the worse the blood tastes," Simon explained. "Fresh is better." "But you've never drunk fresh blood. Have you?" Simon raised his own eyebrows in response. "Well, aside from mine, of course," Jace said. "And I'm sure my blood is fan-tastic.

The Great and Tragic Love of Jonathan Shadowhunter and David the Silent, by Clary Fray, Aged 17. SIMON IT WAS BY SIMON NOT ME (...) Jonathan Shadowhunter: Oh, David, I would trust you with my life! David: Oh, Jonathan, I would sacrifice my own life for your holy mission! (He almost does) Jonathan: (weeping) David, you must return to me! I need you! I cannot do this thing without you! David: Lo, I return! Jonathan: Zounds! I feel a great stirring in my pantaloons! David: What doth thy pantalo SIMON I WILL KILL YOU

Wait! I'm the one who's supposed to chase!

Well isn't that a juicy bit of gossip I hadn't heart about? And full term. Which means she was shagging Justus with a bun in the over. So the man playing naked Twister with a prostitute is one to judge?

It's me," whispered a familiar voice. "Der—" Thwack. He stumbled, Liz behind him, a sturdy branch raised. "Liz, it's—" She hit him again, a home-run swing between the shoulders, and he went down with an oomph and an oath. She recognized the voice—or the curse—and leaned over, getting a look at him. (Liz) "Whoops." (Simon) "I'd say he deserved that, always sneaking up on people.

"It's a workshop. Nothing but tools." "So why would it be locked?" I asked. "I'd love to say it's suspicious," SImon said. "But if this Banks guy had kids around, then I'm not surprised. My dad isn't exactly Mr. Handyman, but he kept a lock on his toolbox. You know parents, Paranoid." "Yeah," Derek said. "Especially after their son flattens his fingers trying to nail a drawing to the wall." "Hey, I'm not the genius who suggested it." Simon glanced at me. "Tape wouldn't hold it, and Science Guy explained that the paper was too heavy for the adhesive. So I got some nails." Derek rolled his eyes.

"It was hot at the restaurant," I said. "So I rolled up my sleeves." "What?" I pushed my left one up, showing four bruises, dark as ink spots. Simon paled. "My aunt wanted to know what happened. When I wouldn't tell her, she tricked me into admitting it was a boy. She met Derek this morning and he was rude, so she decided it had to be him. I never confirmed it. If he's in trouble, it is not my fault. I had every right to tell someone and I didn't." "Okay, okay." He rubbed his mouth, still staring at my arm. "So he grabbed your arm. That's what it looks like. Right? He just grabbed harder than he thought." "He threw me across the room." Simon's eyes widened, then he lowered his lids to hide his surprise. "But he didn't mean to. If you saw how freaked out he was last night, you'd know that." "So that makes it okay? If I lose my temper and smack you, it's all right, because I didn't mean to, didn't plan to." "You don't understand. He just—" "She's right." Derek's voice preceded him around the corner. I shrank back. I couldn't help it. As I did, a look passed through Derek's eyes. Remorse? Guilt? He blinked it away.

I knew Derek didn't lack empathy—he couldn't forget what he'd done to that kid who attacked Simon. But it was like what he held some weird list of checks and balances, and if you got on the wrong side, like Tori had, he had no problem 'kicking you on the curb,' to face whatever fate waited. "No," I said. "It isn't up for negotiation. She's not coming." "Okay." I stood and brushed off my jeans. "Come on, Tori." When Simon rose, I thought he was going to stop me. Instead, he followed me to the door. Tori caught up, and we made it into the next room before Derek jogged out, catching my arm with a wrench that yanked me off my feet. I winced and peeled off his fingers. "Wrong one." He dropped my arm quickly, realizing he'd grabbed my injured one. A long minute of silence, then, "Fine." He turned to Tori. "Three conditions. One, whatever your problem is with Chloe, get over it. Go after her again, you're gone." "Understood," Tori said. "Two, get over Simon. He's not interested." She flushed and snapped, "I think I've figured that out. And number three?" "Get over yourself."

NYC Institute has one. I'll show you sometime if you want. It's a date. It is maybe the least romantic spot in the Institute, by the way. You'll make up for that, I'm sure. (Jeez, get a locked room on unsanctified ground, you two.)

Isabelle!" he called again. "Let down your raven hair!' "Oh my God," Clary muttered. "There was something in that blood Raphael gave you, wasn't there? I'm going to kill him.

It faded slowly, ebbing like the tide. He rolled onto his back, staring up, his head still aching. The black clouds were beginning to roll back, showing a widening strip of blue; the Angel was gone, the lake surging under the growing light as if the water were boiling. Simon began to sit up slowly, his eyes squinted painfully against the sun. He could see someone racing down the path from the farmhouse to the lake. Someone with long black hair, and a purple jacket that flew out behind her like wings. She hit the end of the path and leaped onto the lakeside, her boots kicking up puffs of sand behind her. She reached him and threw herself sand behind her. She reached him and threw herself down, wrapping her arms around him. “Simon,” she whispered. He could feel the strong, steady beat of Isabelle’s heart. “I thought you were dead,” she went on. “I saw you fall down, and—I thought you were dead.” Simon let her hold him, propping himself up on his hands. He realized he was listing like a ship with a hole in the side, and tried not to move. He was afraid that if he did, he would fall over. “I am dead.” “ I know,” Izzy snapped. “I mean more dead than usual.

We're your official search party," Tori said. Complete with bloodhound." She waved at Derek, who was brushing off his jeans. "I left a note," I said to Derek. "I told you whee I was going and what was doing." "He got it," Simon said. "Didn't matter." Derek glowered. "You think leaving a note makes it okay to do something—" "Don't say stupid," I warned. "Why not? It was stupid." Simon winced and murmured, "Ease off, bro." "That's okay," I said. "I'm used to it." I looked up at Derek. He wavered for a second, then crossed his arms, jaw setting. "It was stupid," he said. Risky and dangerous. Those guys could be out here with guns—

Will you for_me? I stared at the two hands, trying to figure out the missing word until a loud sigh came through the door. "Either the answer is no or my drawing sucks." "Hold on." I quickly dressed and opened the door. Simon was leaning against the wall. "So?" he said. "I'm having trouble with one part." I pointed to the hands. "Give," he said. "Ah." I read the note. "Will you for...forgive me? I looked up at him. "I think that's supposed to be my question." "No, you did the right thing. You realized it wasn't what you wanted, and you said no. I'm the jerk who stomped off and left you alone in the forest. I'm sorry. Really sorry." He paused. "So...are we okay?" Relief made my knees wobble. "We're okay. But I am sor—" He held up a hand to cut me off. "I can't get mad at you for confirming something I already suspected. I gave it a shot. I didn't work out. I'm not going to say I'm fine with that, but..." He shrugged. "I like you, Chloe. And it's not a girlfriend-or-nothing kind of like, so I'm hoping we can skip the we-tried-dating-and-it-blew stage and jump straight back to where we were, if you want that." "I want that."

Love is a state of the heart, but also, an activity. And quite an awesome one.

Next time he summons me like a half-asred squirrel demon," I said,"I'll tell him so!

Patience, grasshopper," said Maia. "Good things come to those who wait." "I always thought that was 'Good things come to those who do the wave,'" said Simon. No wonder I've been confused all my life." "'Confused is a nice word for it," said Jace

Simon kissed me and I just stood there like someone had cut the cord between my brain and my muscles. Finally, the connection caught and I did kiss him, but awkwardly, some part of me still holding back, my gut twisting, like I was doing something wrong, making a huge mistake, and— Simon stopped. For a moment, he hovered there, face above mine, until I had to look away. "Wrong guy, huh? he said, his voice so soft I barely caught it. "Wh-what?" He eased back, and his eyes went blank, unreadable. "There's someone else," he said. Not a question. A statement. "S-someone...? A boyfriend, you mean? From before? No. Never. I wouldn't—" "Go out with me if there was. I know." He took another step back, the heat of his body fading, the chill of night air moving in. "I don't mean a guy from before, Chloe. I mean one from now." I stared at him. Now? Who else...? There was only one other guy— "D-Derek? Y-you think—" I couldn't finish. I wanted to laugh. You think I like Derek? Are you kidding? But the laugh wouldn't come, just this thundering in my ears, breath catching like I'd been smacked in the chest. "Derek and I aren't—" "No, not yet. I know." "I—I don't—" Just say it. Please let me say it. "I don't like Derek." But I didn't. Couldn't.

Simon appeared at the doorway behind Tori and Derek. He waved to me and mouthed "run while you can." Not a bad idea. I snuck around them and zipped out the door to where Simon waited. Then I glanced back at Tori. "Don't worry about her," he said. "Probably the most fun she's had in days." He led me into the next room. "Sadly, I can't say the same for Derek, and as soon as he stops arguing long enough to notice you're gone—" "Hey!" Derek called. "Where are you two going?" Simon took my elbow and steered me at a jog through the house as Derek's footsteps pounded behind us.

Simon, don’t you think I’m scared of that too? You’re not the only one on that ledge. If we jump, we jump together. We fall together.

Simon, mark well my words! Wives are the devil ­ and I know!' `In truth,' Alan sighed, `I am the only wise one amongst us all.' `Art a silly lad!' Fulk rumbled, and cast him an affectionate though fiery glance. `Alan speaks sooth for once,' Simon said, and placed his finger on Margaret's indignant lips. He had her in his arms again, and like a needle to the magnet, Jeanne had drawn near to her Geoffrey. `For Alan throughout hath known that needs must I fall, and at Margot's feet.' `Ah, and he knew that I loved thee, even before I knew it myself,' Margaret cried. `Methinks he hath worked very quietly to bring about our happiness. And yet he will not seek his own.' `I observe thy folly,' he said, `and know mine own wisdom. That is happiness.' Jeanne looked at Geoffrey, and a smile passed between them, of boundless conceit. Margaret stole her hand into Simon's, smiling also. Not one of them answered Alan, and he laughed, leaning on his father's shoulder, and surveying his two friends with soft, satisfied eyes. `Are my sage words beneath contempt?' he asked. `Ay,' Simon answered simply, and looked down into Margaret's face for a long moment. A deep breath he drew, and glanced again at Alan. `Beneath contempt,' said Simon the Coldheart.

Tears sprang to my eyes. I blinked them back, grabbed some tissue, and started awkwardly trying to daub leftover dye into my pale eyebrows, praying it would make a difference. Through the mirror, I saw Tori walk in. She stopped. "Oh. My. God." It would have been better if she'd laughed. Her look of horror, then something like sympathy, meant it was as bad as I thought. "I told Derek to let me pick the color," she said. "I told him." "Hey," Simon called in. "Everyone decent?" He pushed open the door, saw me and blinked. "It's Derek's fault," Tori said. "He—" "Don't, please," I said. "No more fighting." Simon still shot a glare over his shoulder as Derek pushed open the door. "What?" Derek said. He looked at me. "Huh." Tori hustled me out the door, brushing past the guys with a whispered "jerk" for Derek. "At least now you know never to go dark again," she said as we walked. "A couple years ago, I let a friend dye mine blond. It was almost as bad. My hair felt like straw and..." And so, Tori and I bonded over hair horror stories.

The angel was sitting by his bed when Simon Iddesleigh, sixth Viscount Iddesleigh, opened his eyes. He would've thought it a terrible dream, one of an endless succession that haunted him nightly -- or worse, that he'd not survived the beating and had made that final infinite plunge out of this world and into the flaming next. But he was almost certain hell did not smell of lavender and starch, did not feel like worn linen and down pillows, did not sound with the chirping of sparrows and the rustle of gauze curtains. And, of course, there were no angels in hell.

Then I level my smile at Simon, and this smile is one I do feel, and it’s definitely an activity, too — the activity of fist suppression.

The point is that when you're playing D&D and your group comes across a heap of treasure, or a big sparkly gem, or a magical skull, you should never take it. It's always a trap." He uncrossed his arms and waved them wildly. "This is a trap." Jace was silent. He was looking at Simon thoughtfully, as if he'd never seen him before, or at least never considered him so closely. "Come here," he said. Simon moved toward him, his eyebrows raised. "What-oof!" Jace had dropped his sword into Simon's hands. "Hold this for me while I climb," Jace said, and leaped up onto the plinth.

The thing about the Mirror is that no one knows where it is. In fact, no one knows what it is.” "It’s a mirror,” Simon said. “You know – reflective, glass. I’m just assuming.

The whole prophecy is bollocks," I say. "'And one will come to end us. And one will bring his fall.' Did I also bring my own fall?" "No," Baz says. "That was me. Obviously." "How did you bring my fall? I stopped the Humdrum myself." Baz looks back at his phone, bored. "Fell in love, didn't you?

This is how a faerie loves: with her whole body and soul. This is how a faerie loves: with destruction. This is how a faerie loves: with a gift.