Every meeting led to a parting, and so it would, as long as life was mortal. In every meeting there was some of the sorrow of parting, but in everything parting there was some of the joy of meeting as well.

He broke up with me." "Because you weren't in love with him. That's an iffy proposition, and I think he's handling with grace. A lot of teenage boys would sulk, or lurk around under your window with a boom box." "No one has a boom box anymore. That was the eighties.

Jem drew back from her, looking dazed. "By the Angel," he said. "Perhaps we do need a chaperon.

I suppose we all lie to ourselves sometimes.

Demon pox,' said Will with the satisfaction of the truly vindicated.

But you hate poetry! Yes, but you make me want to write it.

This is bad," said Jace. "You said that before." "It seemed worth repeating.