Well, I don't want you to die," Tessa said. "I don't know why I feel it so strongly -- I've just met you -- but I don't want you to die." "And I trust you," he said. "I don't know why -- I've just met you -- but I do.

I keep thinking about blood, I dream about it. Wake up thinking about it. Pretty soon I'll be writing morbid emo poetry about it.

Take off your shirt." Jace raised his eyebrows. "I'm not going to attack you," she said impatiently. "I can take the sight of your naked chest without swooning." "Are you sure?" he asked, obediently sliding the shirt off his shoulders. "Because viewing my naked chest has caused many women to seriously injure themselves stampeding to get to me.

He remembered Simon warning him, with wryness, that Clary had the nuclear bomb of boyfriends.

Because viewing my naked chest has caused many women to seriously injure themselves stampeding to get to me.

Half of your attention is better than all of anyone else's.

No' is a magical word," he told her. "Here's how it goes. You say, 'Simon, I have an insane, suicidal plan. Would you like to help me carry it out?' And I say, "Why, no.