You might at least believe that I know honor- honor and debt.

I'm not ritualistic about writing. I try to write as often as possible, which means that I have to be able to write in all kinds of situations, whether it's at home on my couch, out at a cafe, or traveling.

Magnus sighed. "Alexander, I've been alive for hundreds of years. I've been with men, been with women - with faeries and warlocks and vampires, and even a djinn or two." He looked sideways at Maryse, who looked mildly horrified. "Too much information?

And so what? I just killed a demon in my own house, and you're going to be a dickhead about it because I'm not some spoiled-rotten rich brat like you and your sister?" Alec looked astonished. "What did you call me?

I know about parabatai,” said Magnus, an angry, dark undercurrent to his voice. “I’ve known parabatai so close they were almost the same person; do you know what happens, when one of them dies, to the one that’s left —?

I care about you," Simon said. "I always cared about you.

There are some kinds of wounds you can get, internal injuries. You don't know what's wrong with you, but you're bleeding to death slowly inside.