Alec muttered a retort into his coffee. It rhymed with something that sounded a lot more like "ducking glass mole.

I want to kiss you one more time before I die.

Oh, good. You're starting to talk about yourself in the third person. That's not a sign of impending megalomania or anything.

He'd learned his lesson a long time ago: Even in the midst of heartbreak, you could still find yourself laughing.

So you decided to help us by killing the guy we were talking to?" Clary demanded "Because you thought he had a shady past? Who- who does that? It doesnt make any sense.

What are all these?" Clary asked. "Vials of holy water, blessed knives, steel and silver blades," Jace said, piling the weapons on the floor beside him, "electrum wire - not much use at the moment but it's always good to have spares - silver bullets, charms of protetion, crucifixes, stars of David-" "Jesus," said Clary "I doubt he'd fit." "Jace." Clary was appalled.

History gets written by the winners.