I should have warned her about your habit of never doing what you're told." Jace squinted at her. "Are those Isabelle's clothes? They look ridiculous on you." "I could point out that you burned my clothes." -Jace and Clary pg. 63

Maybe you just never knew what it was like to want something you couldn't have before

He was still stroking the inside of her wrist, his touch doing odd delicious things to her skin and nerves.

Keep up," said an irritable voice in her ear. It was Jace, who had dropped back to walk beside her. "I don't want to have to keep looking behind me to make sure nothing's happened to you." "So don't bother." "Last time I left you alone, a demon attacked you," he pointed out. "Well, I'd certainly hate to interrupt your pleasant night stroll with my sudden death." He blinked. "There is a fine line between sarcasm and outright hostility, and you seem to have crossed it.

If you’re being punished,” Clary said, “then so am I. Because all those things you felt, I felt them too, but we can’t—we have to stop feeling this way, because it’s our only chance.” Jace’s hands were tight at his sides. “Our only chance for what?” “To be together at all. Because otherwise we can’t ever be around each other, not even just in the same room, and I can’t stand that. I’d rather have you in my life even as a brother than not at all

Carstairs is alright, I suppose. If you like that sort.” “Oh?” “The taken. The uninterested.” “As opposed to… you, Gabriel?” “Well, yes.

I wouldn't call that an instrument of music," Ragnor observed sourly. "An instrument of torture, perhaps.