His eyes went soft and silver as she spoke. “Zhe shi jie shang, wo shi zui ai ne de,” he whispered. She understood it. In all the world, you are what I love the most.

Life is a book, and there are a thousand pages I have not read. I would read them together with you, as many as I can, before I die -" She put her hand against his chest, just over his heart, and felt its beat against her palm, a unique time signature that was all its own. "I only wish you would not speak of dying," she said. "But even for that, yes, I know how you are with your words, and, Will- I love all of them. Every word you say. The silly ones, the mad ones, the beautiful ones, and the ones that are only for me. I love them, and I love you.

It's your gift, to see the beauty and the horror in ordinary things. It doesn't make you crazy, just different.

Clary didn't ask what that was. She was busy trying not to fall over. The ground was heaving up and down under her feet. "Jace," she said, and crumpled into him. He caught her as if he were used to catching fainting girls, as if he did it every day. Maybe he did.

When somebody tells you there's something wrong with your book they're almost always right, when they tell you how to fix it they're almost always wrong.

And second, keep in mind that you are a weapon. In theory, when you're done with training, you should be able to kick a hole in a wall or knock out a moose with a single punch." "I would never hit a moose," said Clary. "They're endangered.

Isabelle: All the boys are gay. In this van, anyway. Well, except for you, Simon. Simon: Glad you noticed. Magnus: I prefer to think of myself as a freewheeling bisexual. Alec: Please never say that in front of my parents.