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.

Hiding here, are you? That’s awkward.” “Why?” “Because I had intended to hide here myself.” “You may hide here with me, if you wish.

Jace whistled. "Raphael is really having an exceptionally bad night." -Jace, pg.283-

The boy was standing alone as though the broken glass all around him were a shining sea and he were an island.

She shook her head. She was so pale under the diffuse lamp-light that she looked almost transparent, as if Simon could have looked right through her. The way, he supposed, he always had.

Love didn't make you weak, it made you stronger.

Will: "You are not really dying, are you?" Jem: "So they tell me." Will: "I am sorry." Jem: "No. Don’t be ordinary like that. Don’t say you’re sorry. Say you’ll train with me." Will: "I’ll train with you.