Alec looked horrified, as if she'd asked him to put on a tutu and execute a perfect pirouette.

That's the van? It looks like a rotting banana." This was undeniable - Eric had painted the van a neon shade of yellow, and it was blotched with dings and rust like splotches of decay.

A patient, methodical sort of madman. The worst kind.

A massive fir, it rose to nearly touch the ceiling at the far end of the ballroom. When Will asked Charlotte how on earth it had gotten in there, she had only waved her hands and said something about Magnus.

I really wish you hadn't worn that sweater,'he muttered into her ear. 'It's good practice for you,' she replied,her lips moving against his skin. 'Tomorrow,fishnets.' Against her side,warm and familiar,she felt him laugh.

Mom. I have something to tell you. I’m undead. Now, I know you may have some preconceived notions about the undead. I know you may not be comfortable with the idea of me being undead. But I’m here to tell you that undead are just like you and me … well, okay. Possibly more like me than you.

I have lost everything. Lost everything. Everything. - William Herondale