Since I've met you, everything I've done has been in part because of you. I can't untie myself from you, Clary- not my heart or my blood or my mind or any other part of me. And I don't want to." ~Jace Wayland

Mundane humans create distinctions between themselves, distinctions that seem ridiculous to any Shadowhunter. Their distinctions are based on race, religion, national identity, any of a dozen minor and irrelevant markers. ~ Valentine

We have a name," said Jace. "Magnes B-" "Shut up." Alec hissed, thwacking Jace with his closed menu. Jace looked injured. "Jesus," he rubbed his arm. "What's your problem?

If I held a revolver to your head, James, and pulled the trigger, would it really matter if I did not know that there were not bullets in the chambers?

I do not understand how you humans can walk in shoes that are that tall.” “Its my motto,” said Isabelle, with a sultry smile. “Nothing less than seven inches.

Well, why did you kill Jeremiah? And don't bother feeding me some story about how you just happened to wander along after he spontaneously died. I know you did this.

So here’s where they put you. I didn’t think they even used these cells anymore.” He glanced sideways. “I got the wrong window at first. Gave your friend in the next cell something of a shock. Attractive fellow, what with the beard and the rags. Kind of reminds me of the street folk back home.