I don't care who her mother is," Magnus said. "You can't see me with out an appointment. Come back later. Next March would be good," "March?" Sebastian looked horrified. "You're right," Magnus said, "Too rainy. How about June?

She knew she could not be Jem for Will. No one could. But slowly the hollow places in his heart were filling in.

Here's a hot tip: Most girls don't like being stalked.

She had fallen asleep with her head on his arm, the clockwork angel, still around her throat, resting against his shoulder just to the left of his collarbone. As she moved away, the clockwork angel slipped free and she saw to her surprise that where it had lain against his skin it had left a mark behind, no bigger than a shilling, in the shape of a pale white star.

There was a small wooden gazebo built out over the water; Isabelle was sitting in it, staring out across the lake. She looked like a princess in a fairy tale, waiting at the top of her tower for someone to ride up and rescue her. Not that traditional princess behavior was like Isabelle at all. Isabelle with her whip and boots and knives would chop anyone who tried to pen her up in a tower into pieces, build a bridge out of the remains, and walk carelessly to freedom, her hair looking fabulous the entire time.

Or maybe it's just that beautiful things are so easily broken by the world.

Brown is a manly color