It was sometimes inconvenient to have the gold-green, slit-pupilled eyes of a cat, but this was usually easily hidden with a small glamour, and if not, well, there were quite a few ladies-and men-who didn't find it a drawback.

I wouldn't change it," Simon said. "I wouldn't give up loving you. Not for anything. You know what Raphael told me? That I didn't know how to be a good vampire, that vampires accept that they're dead. But as long as I remember what it was like to love you, I'll always feel like I'm alive.

"Jem?" he said. "Is it you, James?" "Who else?" Jem's voice.

If you love someone, you're not supposed to want them to come back. Better a peaceful sleep in the earth than the life of a zombie--not really dead but not really alive, either.

Declarations of love amuse me. Especially when unrequited.

Never doubt my weaseling abilities, Shadowhunter, for they are epic and memorable in their scope.

He (Jace) glanced down at his bound hands. His wrists and shoulders had gone from aching to hard, stabbing pain, but he didn’t wince as the inquisitor regarded one of the blades, named it Jophiel, and plunged it into the polished wooden floorboards at her feet. He waited, but nothing happened. “Boom,” he said eventually. “Was something supposed to happen there?” ~pg.303~