If you don’t go after Luke,” Clary said, enunciating very clearly, “I, personally, will kill you.” For a moment Jocelyn looked astonished. Then she smiled. “Well,” she said, “if you put it like that.

But Magnus, he thought. You never told me. Never warned me it would be like this, that I would wake up one day and realize that I was going somewhere you couldn't follow. That we are essentially not the same. There's no "till death do us apart" for those who never die.

Coaxing drunken Shadowhunters into making fools of themselves was a favorite occupation among the Downworlders, and this performance had been a tremendous success.

Temper us in fire, and we grow stronger. When we suffer, we survive.

But they love each other. Isn't that what love means? That you're supposed to be there for the other person to turn to, no matter what?

unfortunately, we're all out of bitter evange at the moment, so it's either tea or nothing

If you run into a psychic wall face-first, do you wind up with psychic bruises? -Clary, pg.239-