Who do we belong with but each other?

Isabelle tugged her tank top back down and glared at her brother. “You don’t knock now?” “It’s my bedroom!” Alec spluttered.

The dark prince sat astride his black steed, his sable cape flowing behind him. A golden circlet bound his blond locks, his handsome face was cold with the rage of battle, and... "And his arm looked like an eggplant," Clary muttered to herself in exasperation.

Looking at her, he was in London again. He saw the gaslight and smelled the smoke and dirt and horses, the metallic tang of fog, the flowers in Kew Gardens. He saw a boy with black hair and blue eyes like Alec's. A girl with long brown curls and a serious face. In a world where everything went away from him eventually, she was one of the few remaining constants.

Life could not be entirely devoted to debauchery and monkeys. Magnus had to finance all the drinking somehow.

She's alive," Thomas said, not opening his eyes. "What?" Will was caught off guard. "The one you come back for. Her. Tessa. She's with Sophie.

Anyone that looked like that wouldn't need to tie up girls and imprison them in order to get them to marry him