she...let the blood spill down instead of tears. — Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire
she...let the blood spill down instead of tears. — Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire
she...let the blood spill down instead of tears. — Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire
she...let the blood spill down instead of tears. — Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire
she...let the blood spill down instead of tears. — Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire
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she...let the blood spill down instead of tears.

— Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire
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More “Blood” Quotes

The want for that kiss had shocked him more than the interruption, and he fell back into the chair, cool and nonchalant — Kim Harrison, A Perfect Blood
Weave the circle, tightly sewn,Let nothing evil or unknownEnter within. Stay withoutOn pain of death, we cast you out. — Yasmine Galenorn, Blood Wyne
We prayed these wars would end all wars --In war we know is no romance.") — Mark Knopfler, Golden Heart
Finally, Charlie gave up the hunt and placed (the puppy) back on the floor, dispatching fleas was not his idea of a roma — E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly
...But the Mahommedan religion increases, instead of lessening, the fury of intolerance. It was originally propagated by — Winston S. Churchill, The Story of the Malakand Field Force
As children in a small village in Sierra Leone, my friends and I dreamed of travelling the world like the missionaries w — Francis Mandewah, FRIENDSHIP: A True Story of Adventure, Goodwill, and Endurance
They took one look at me,And hated my black face.They took one look at me,And decided on my fate.They took one look at m — N'Zuri Za Austin
I’d never seen anything like it. First a trial, then a few murders, then dancing. Life goes on. Or, in this case, death — Charlaine Harris
When it's my time, and the reaper calls my name, there will be no stink of fear on me, and my only wish will be to die w — Cedric Nye, Jango's Anthem
Camels can go many weeks without drinking anything at all. The notion that they cache water in their humps is pure myth— — Michael Benanav, Men of Salt: Crossing the Sahara on the Caravan of White Gold
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Brush snapped. The stag shambled forth from the outer darkness. It loomed above Scobie, its fur rank and steaming. Black — Laird Barron, The Beautiful Thing That Awaits Us All