Do you really wish to disobey me, Marbas? Do you wish to anger my father?

Stop. I don't do you favors, Alec. I do things for you because - well, why do you think I do them?" Something rose up in Alec's throat, cutting off his response. It was always like this when he was with Magnus. It was as if there were a bubble of pain or regret that lived inside his heart, and when he wanted to say something, anything, that seemed meaningful or true, it rose up and choked off his words. "I need to get back to the ship," he said, finally.

Wasn't it? Is loyalty still a commendable quality when it is misdirected?

It's so dark," she said lamely. "You want me to hold your hand?" Clary put both her hands behind her back like a small child. "Don't talk down to me." "Well, I could hardly talk up to you. You're too short.

Jace slammed his hand down on the stele. “Clary-“ “She said she doesn’t want it,” said Simon. “Ha-ha.” “Ha-ha?” Jace looked incredulous. “That’s your comeback?

I know what you said! My mother would never have belonged to something like that. Some kind of-some kind of hate group." "It wasn't-," Jace began, but Hodge cut him off. "I doubt," he said slowly, as if the words pained him, "that she had much choice." Clary stared. "What are you talking about? Why wouldn't she have had a choice?" "Because," said Hodge, "she was Valentine's wife.

Only Jace, Clary thought, could look cool in pajama bottoms and an old T-shirt, but he pulled it off, probably through sheer force of will. -pg. 329-