Not everything Jace did was insane and suicidal, she reminded herself. It just seemed that way. -Clary, pg.46-

I know," he said, looking down at himself self-consciously. "I am not-I mean, I look-" "Beautiful," she said, and she meant it. "You look beautiful, James Carstairs.

It's been so long that I think I was unsettled by the idea of feeling like I belonged anywhere. But you made me feel like I belong.

He leaned against the door frame, ignoring the kick of adrenaline the sight of her produced. He wondered why, not for the first time. Isabelle used her beauty like she used her whip, but Clary didn't know she was beautiful at all. Maybe that was why.

What's this?" "That's a mango." Simon stared at Jace. Sometimes it really is like Shadowhunters were from an alien planet. "I don't think I've seen one of those that wasn't already cut up," Jace mused. "I like mangoes." Simon grabbed the mango and tossed it into the cart. "Great. What else do you like?" Jace pondered for a moment. "Tomato soup," he said finally. "Tomato soup? You want tomato soup and a mango for dinner?" Jace shrugged. "I don't really care about food.

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

Ladies who were no better than they should be, whose dresses were too tight, too bright and too all the things Magnus liked most, lounged on velvet-covered benches along the walls.