Hate is nothing when weighed against survival. (Valentine)

The Brother's hood fell back, and his silvery hair shone out in the dim chamber like starlight. All the air rushed out of Tessa's lungs in a single instant. The Silent Brother was Jem.

She supposed they were imperfections, those marks, but they didn't feel that way to her; they were a history, cut into his body: the map of a life of endless war.

If only Simon were here. He could probably bore you to sleep.

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.

HOUSE RULES [at the Praetor Lupus Headquarters] No shape-shifting in the hallways. No howling. No silver. Clothing must be worn at all times. ALL TIMES. No fighting. No biting. Mark all your food before you put it in the communal refrigerator.

This one incident I will not allow you to shrug off!" "I wasn't planning to," Jace said. "I can't shrug anything off. My shoulder's dislocated." -Hodge & Jace, pg.296-