Actually," said Jace, "I prefer to think that I'm a liar in a way that's uniquely my own.

It was like I saw your soul in the notes of the music. And it was beautiful." She leaned forward and touched his face lightly, the smooth skin over his hard cheekbone, his hair like feathers against the back of her hand. "I saw rivers, boats like flowers, all the colors of the night sky.

That's your truck parked up by the factory isn't it?" Magnus pointed. "It's awfully butch for a bookseller.

There's nothing you could have done that would cause me to cease loving either of you. Will is myself, my own soul, and if I am not to have the keeping of your heart, then there is not other I would rather have that honor.

I decided it was well past time to take him home and place him in bosom of his family. If you had rather I put him in an orphanage, I fully understand.

So you are dying for love, then," Will said finally, his voice sounding constricted to his own ears. 'Dying a little faster for love. And there are worse things to die for.

Hate is nothing when weighed against survival. (Valentine)