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

Kyle is a werewolf?"asked Simon "Of course he's a werewolf,you moron"said Jace

Something snapped inside Maryse. “He is not a Herondale. He is a Lightwood. Jace Lightwood. He’s my son.

Every memory was valuable; even the bad ones.

Tessa was laying on her side, her brown hair spread over the pillow, watching Will, whose face was bent over the pages, with a look of tenderness in her eyes, a tenderness mirrored in the softness of Will's voice as he read.

Magic or nature, they were much the same thing to Magnus.

I’d do almost anything for you,” Simon said quietly. “I’d die for you. You know that. But would I kill someone else, someone innocent? What about a lot of innocent lives? What about the whole world? Is it really love to tell someone that if it came down to picking between them and every other life on the planet, you’d pick them? Is that—I don’t know, is that a moral sort of love at all?