Shutting your eyes and pretending something's not happening doesn't make it not true, Jace.

You're a disaster for us, Clary! You're a mundane, you'll always be one, you'll never be a Shadowhunter! You don't know how to think like we do, think about what's best for everyone-- all you think about is yourself! But there's a war now, or there will be, and I don't have time or the inclination to follow around after you, trying to make sure you don't get us killed! Go home, Clary. Go home!

Whenever I see interesting names, I jot them down. I've found them in lots of different places: on the news, in the phone book, even on hotel registry lists.

My favorite jacket is an emergency item. Much like myself, it is both snuggly and fashionable.

She could ask for anything, she thought dizzily, anything--an end to pain or world hunger or disease, or for peace on earth. But then again, perhaps these things weren't in the power of angels to grant, or they would already have been granted. And perhaps people were supposed to find these things for themselves.

You didn't have to come after me." "Yes, I did," he said. "You're far too inexperienced to protect yourself in a hostile situation without me." "That's sweet. Maybe I'll forgive you." "Forgive me? Fro what?" "Fro telling me to shut up." His eyes narrowed. "I did not... Well, I did, But you were-" "Never mind.

He has fought many battles with us" (Jace) By which you mean one battle" muttered Simon. "Two if you count the one I was a rat