He looked at her levelly. There was something in his eyes, a sort of quizzical admiration; she wondered if it was simply admiration of Jessamine’s looks. “No,” he said. “No, even though you are the perfect picture of Jessamine, I can see Tessa through it somehow as if, if I were to scrape away a layer of paint, there would be my Tessa underneath.” “I am not your Tessa either.” The light sparkling in his eyes dimmed. “Fair enough,” he said. “I suppose you are not.

So much saintlike patience cannot be good for anyone.

Books are for reading, not for turning oneself into livestock.

So you're a Shadowhunter,' Nate said. 'De Quincey told me that you lot were monsters.' 'Was that before or after he tried to eat you?' Will inquired.

Maybe. Although I doubt most Shadowhunters get a tattoo of Donatello from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on their left shoulder.

There was no Jace Wayland more real than the one he saw in her eyes when she looked at him.

It sucked to be old enough to want to know what was going on, but so young you were always dismissed.